Gene Cocktail
by arbitrary
Summary: Just after the end of To Heal All Wounds. Corbin is Spike's imperfect clone, created in a lab two years after Spike's death, but is that all he is? What happens when a scientist plays god?put it in the can, this film is DONE
1. Cold Morning

Corbin closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. Rest rarely found him, even before he met Jet. Sleep was always filled with flashes of someone else's memories, but since meeting up with Jet, since sitting in the cockpit of the Swordfish II, it had gotten worse. The flashes were stronger, more persistent, but not any more coherent, shifting from little Spikey eating an ice cream on a beach; to the feeling of a cold steel table under him, and a blinding pain in his eye; to the vague impression of smooth, white skin, and pale yellow hair. It was Spike inside his head, trying to get out. But Corbin was not Spike, Spike was a man eaten away by pain, and loss. Spike wanted to die, Corbin wanted nothing more than to live, free from Spike's tall shadow.  
  
He scratched absently at the tattoo on his hand. XXVI. It was because of that tattoo that he had to leave the Bebop, the first place he felt he might have a home. Because he would always be Corbin 26 to them, never just Corbin. Despite all of Jet's generosity, Corbin knew that every time he saw him, he didn't really see him. He saw Spike.  
  
"Bastard... not enough that he pisses away his own life, now he's got to screw with mine."  
  
XXVI. 26. What an unlucky number.  
  
2 x 13, Faye would say, double the trouble.  
  
Faye... the woman was like ice... no, not ice, ice was indifferent, ice was unmoved, Faye hated him with the passionate intensity of a raging fire. He was unworthy to breath, less than dirt, the lowest common denominator. Even if he could live with Jet's comparing him to Spike, he could never live with it from her.  
  
Corbin recalled their parting. He'd already said goodbye to Jet, who'd given him the Swordfish II, saying that it was "only right that it go to someone Spike would have thought worthy to pilot it," and who was more worthy than he? At first, he hadn't thought that she would see him off at all.  
  
There was an instant there, when they were close, there was such a familiarity in their partnership, he knew exactly what to expect from her, and she from him. When they went up against Dimitri, they worked like they had been doing it for years. And then, when they got back, she shut down quicker than an unstable reactor core, and he was back to being the intruder and, he suspected, the painful reminder.  
  
She did show up, though, dressed all in black, like she was mourning, John had been gone when they returned, Corbin was sure she partially blamed him. She flashed him a bitter smile through his windshield, and mouthed "see you, Cowboy." Suddenly his mind was filled with images of emerald eyes, luscious red lips, and short dark hair. He had a brief flash of her, water cascading over her naked shoulders, as she pointed a gun at him.  
  
His eyes flew open, as he halted his train of thought. No sleep tonight. Not for a while anyway.  
  
He uttered a brief curse, then threw the covers off of himself, and wandered to the kitchenette of his hotel room, to make himself a pot of coffee, humming the tune to U2's `Mysterious Ways.'  
  
Jet had told Corbin that he was always welcome on the Bebop, told him to call if he needed help, told him that he would always be there if he needed anything. Still, he hadn't expected to hear from the clone so soon.  
  
"Jet," came the gritty voice over the phone, "I, uh, this is going to seem really weird..."  
  
"What is it?" Jet tried not to sound overly concerned, but, Corbin looked like he hadn't slept in the whole month since he'd seen him. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. What was wrong?  
  
"God, this is going to sound crazy, Jet, but I'm having strange dreams... not bad dreams, that I can deal with, my head is stuffed full of Spike's memories, and my own of the lab... no, it feels almost like, I don't know, someone's calling me." He shook his head, " I do sound crazy. Listen, I'm sorry I bothered you, forget it." And without so much as a good bye, he cut the signal.  
  
Faye hadn't been home in almost a month, and she wasn't about to start now. Why should she bother, when John wouldn't be there to greet her... no one would be there. Once again, she was all alone.  
  
Not that she was bitter about the break-up, she'd known it was inevitable ever since Kataki had said the name Spike. She just would have liked him to be there when she got back from destroying the Lansing-Metcalf laboratory. Not that she wanted to stop him, she just wanted a chance to explain. Instead she returned to find that he'd left. Maybe he thought talking to her would be too painful, but it was never Faye's intention to cause pain, she couldn't help that her scarred, beaten heart was incapable of loving him. Sometimes she was angry that he'd robbed her of closure in their relationship, but usually, she was ashamed that she'd led him on for so long. That's why, when he didn't call, she made no move to contact him.  
  
No, there was nothing for her there, not now. Not since she'd already moved her blue glass coffee table and torchier floor lamp into her quarters aboard the Shadow Wolf. The V.R. unit sat beneath her bed, gathering dust, how could she use it, when the visions it showed her were as phony as the ones out here. They were no more real than...  
  
"Corbin," she whispered. She wondered what had happened to him, after the Dimitri incident. He packed up and left the next day. Had he kept in contact with Jet? She wondered, and instantly felt ashamed of herself. Why should she care what happened to Spike's shadow, when Spike himself was gone? Why should it matter?  
  
"Miss Valentine?"  
  
Faye jumped at the sound from the other side of her door, then breathed deeply. Of course, Irma would have finished dinner by now. The petite woman had come to stay with Faye after, well, after Faye killed her lover. Faye decided to give her a job as her assistant. She was a sweet girl, who looked up to her. Irma thought Faye was a strong woman. Faye had no idea her disguise was that good.  
  
"I've told you a thousand times, Irma, my name's Faye, you don't have to call me Miss Valentine," Faye said, sweeping the door open, and entering the hall.  
  
"Sorry, Mi-, uh, Faye, Mr. Black's on the line for you, says it's important."  
  
"Thanks, Irma, I'll be right there." she watched Irma's long hair wave as she walked back down the hall with something like envy, as she ran a hand through her own recently sheered hair. She'd gone for the Gina Davis, `Long Kiss Goodnight' look, less the bleach. It was a look that took a little getting used to.  
  
She shook her head, bringing her mind back to the present. What the hell could Jet want?  
  
"Father wants you, Number 26, Father says it's time."  
  
The ghostly voice on the wind.  
  
Corbin was standing over the edge of a canyon outlined in the pre-dawn light, staring into the depths beneath him. He found himself suddenly acrophobic, as he slid his foot behind him, he touched another edge. Then he realized he was on a tiny island of rock, surrounded by space. He began to sweat.  
  
"Father says it's time."  
  
A woman's voice, in the distance. Or maybe not so distant, since it radiated off the canyon walls, and reverberated in his brain.  
  
And then a blinding light from the east. The sun was rising.  
  
He turned from the searing light, directly into the face of a woman. She was pale as the face of the moon, and her hair was the color of flame. Fire and Ice.  
  
"Come to us , 26, you know the way."  
  
She kissed him with every inch of her, putting more than her body into the embrace. Putting her mind into it as well. Corbin tried to draw away, It was too painful, his head felt like exploding.  
  
"Father wants you,": she said, from inside his mind. He felt his skull crack.  
  
She pulled away, and Corbin doubled over, gasping for air. He spat blood, and ran his tongue over his lip. She'd bit him, and he hadn't even noticed.  
  
"Why do you resist?" She said, her voice louder, booming, commanding. She grabbed his hair, and yanked him up, till they were face to face. "Why do you fight!" she was screaming now, her pitch steadily rising until it filled Corbins senses, becoming tangible, tastible.  
  
"Go away. I'm in control, I'm in charge, don't tell me what to do!"  
  
He screamed into his sheets, then sat up. The world paused for a second, while he realized that he was awake again. He ran his finger over his lip, but found no blood. It was only then that time started back up again. He breathed.  
  
And breathed.  
  
What was happening to him? 


	2. The Visitor

His eyes flew open, and his scream died in his throat.  
  
For the fifth night in a row he woke up with his sheets soaked in sweat. He gave a ragged breath, and sat up, glancing about the room to assure himself that he was still in his hotel.  
  
He shook his head, and collapsed back onto the pillow to stare blankly at the ceiling. It was always the same. He was alone, isolated, and she was calling to him. `Father says it's time,' he could hear the sing-song voice in the back of his mind. He shuddered.  
  
He'd called Jet, the only person he knew who would even try to help him, the closest thing he had to a friend. But what could Jet possibly do?  
  
Corbin sighed, and closed his eyes. This time he didn't dream about being summoned, this time he saw only black.  
  
Faye glanced at the paper in her hand, then at the number on the door.  
  
"Well, this is it," she said, then added under her breath, "I can't believe I'm doing this."  
  
Jet had phoned her the night before to ask her for a favor. She happened to be orbiting Venus at the time, the same planet that Corbin had taken up temporary residency on, and he wanted her to drop in on him, make sure he was alright. She'd been about to make a sarcastic comment about Corbin's well-being, and her lack of concern about it, but something in Jet's voice had stopped her.  
  
Jet was afraid for Corbin.  
  
And suddenly, so was she. She told herself she was only here because Jet asked her to come, but she knew that was only an excuse. If that had been it, she could have just sent Irma, this was the type of thing that assistants did. She was here because she wanted to be, and she hated herself for it.  
  
She brought her hand up and lightly wrapped on the door. No answer. Her brow furrowed as she tried again, and put her ear to the door.  
  
This time she heard a faint rustling inside, as Corbin threw the bedding off of himself.  
  
She smiled slightly, and knocked one more time.  
  
"I'm on my way!" she heard him wrestling with his clothes. Sounded like a losing battle. She smiled smugly, and knocked a fourth time.  
  
"Shit..." the muffled curse, and then stomp, stomp, stomp, as he came to the door.  
  
He swung it wide, ready to hurl poison tipped verbal daggers at the person on the other side, and ended up swallowing them. He looked confused for exactly one moment, then he was suddenly collected, casual, confident, he leaned against the door frame, shirtless jeans unzipped, hair a mess, and still managed to look cool. He gave her a bitter smile.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Faye raised one eyebrow, "you fully dressed, for starters."  
  
"Disconcerting?" he asked.  
  
"Disgusting."  
  
He exhaled sharply through his nostrils, in half-amusement. "I was in the process of dressing, but the way you were pounding, I thought for sure it was a matter of life or death. Now I'm sorry it wasn't."  
  
She curled her lip in disdain, as she brushed past him, into his hotel room.  
  
"Oh, sure, come right in," he said, shutting the door behind her, and leaning against it.  
  
"I'm only here because Jet asked me to come check on you. I don't know why, you seem fine."  
  
He sighed wearily, he was beginning to tire of her acid tones, and really beginning to tire of pretending to be `too cool to care.' perhaps if he'd gotten a good nights sleep this week, he would be in better shape to spar with her, but at the moment, he just wasn't up to it. He wanted her out.  
  
She sat down on his rumpled bed, and pulled a cigarette from the pack on the night stand. She made it a point not to ask for it.  
  
"Well, there you go, I'm fine, you can go now," he said, taking the cigarette from between her lips.  
  
She watched as he put his mouth over that space that moments ago, had been occupied by her own, and couldn't help but blush. She felt like she'd just been kissed. Was she happy about that, or angry? The whole thing made her head hurt.  
  
He exhaled. "Did you hear me, you can go now."  
  
She stood, trying her best to look unshaken. "Jet's worried, said you didn't look well."  
  
He smirked, "what difference does it make to you? You've made it perfectly clear that you don't care about me." He swayed, and almost looked like he was going to collapse. Faye reached out to him, but he seemed to recover almost immediately, and brushed her hand away. "I'm just tired, that's all..." he mumbled.  
  
"Right..." she didn't sound convinced, "Jet wanted me to try to talk a little sense into you, but you seem unmoveable." she stood, and he opened the door wide for her. He shut the door behind her, and she fell back against it.  
  
She reached her fingers to her lips, and tears began to well up in her eyes. What was she doing? Her heart belonged to Spike... despite the fact that he'd treated her with total disdain. She hated herself, her treacherous heart. And she hated Corbin for making her feel this way.  
  
She drew a ragged breath, and began to walk to the elevator. This trip had been totally unproductive. Perhaps she'd try again, when she had time to collect herself, and he'd had time to sleep.  
  
The second he had her out of the door he put the cigarette out. She had a way of disturbing his peace, and it was an hour before sleep finally found him, but when it did, it didn't have any mysterious voices, or strange women.  
  
And then.  
  
"Come on, Number 26, Father says it's time."  
  
It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't dreaming.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
She laughed, lightly, it sounded the a butterfly, flapping its wings. There was a weight at the foot of the bed. He opened his eyes to see a woman crouched cat-like at his feet, her long red hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her bangs nearly hiding her aqua colored eyes. Her long, slender limbs bent around her, wrapped in leather. She had obviously been recently engaged in physical activity, since her white cotton tank top clung to her sweat dampened skin.  
  
He recoiled from the sight of her. She was a vision from a dream, she didn't belong anywhere outside of his mind. He felt the needle prick of fear at the back of his neck.  
  
She laughed harder at his reaction, then sprang up, arching gracefully into a back flip, and landing lightly on the floor.  
  
"Nice to see you're awake, Number 26."  
  
He couldn't suppress a shudder at being called Number 26. It brought back memories of the lab. "Don't call me that."  
  
She smiled, "That's right, you prefer... what was it?" She pulled his ID from her pocket, obviously stole from the jeans he'd left on the floor while he slept. She squinted at him. "Corbin? Doesn't really suit you, does it?"  
  
He was on his feet in an instant, and snatching the laminated card back from her. He was instantly felt uncomfortable about his state of undress. He didn't want to stand there in his boxers, it made him feel vulnerable. He turned his back to her as he pulled his jeans over his hips and zipped them.  
  
"Who the hell are you?"  
  
He got down on his knees, reaching beneath the bed for his shirt and shoes.  
  
"You know the answer to that question."  
  
He pulled his shirt over his head, before pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting it. He gritted it between his teeth while he sat on the bed and tied his shoes. "No I don't," he said, between clenched teeth, "otherwise, I wouldn't have asked."  
  
"I'm your Eve." she said seductively.  
  
"No you're a psycho," he said, jumping to his feet. He took her by the arm, and pushed her out the door. "Tell Father he can go to hell." he slammed the door behind her.  
  
There was a two second pause, which seemed to last forever, then the door exploded as Eve put her fist through it.  
  
"I don't think so," she said, stepping over wood shards as she re-entered the room, "Father says it's time, you are to come with me."  
  
Corbin stumbled back in shock, but recovered quickly, "what the hell are you?" he asked, instinctively crouching down into a defensive posture.  
  
She smiled, "I told you," she said, advancing, "I'm Eve."  
  
She blocked the doorway, the only other way out was a window and a fifty story drop. He made his decision instantly, and with speed he didn't know he possessed, somersaulted over the bed, grabbed the gun off the side table, fired three shots into the window, and went crashing through.  
  
Eve rushed to the window after him, hissing a curse. She could hear hotel security on their way, she'd already made too big a scene. With a hurried glance over the edge. She turned and was gone.  
  
Corbin breathed a sigh of relief, and pulled himself up from over the ledge he was hanging from..  
  
Perhaps it was time he went back to the Bebop. He had a feeling he could use a little help. 


	3. Scotch

Faye sat on her bed, coffee cup cradled in her lap and lights dimmed, staring out her window, into the void of space. It used to be beautiful, she remembered a time when it was so, when the sight of super novas and exploding nebulas was enough to set her pulse racing and her palms sweating. Now it was all old, or perhaps it was she that was old, suddenly feeling every second of her cryogenic sleep.  
  
She toyed absently with the ring on her finger, guiltily. It was her engagement ring, a reminder of her failure at love, her failure at life. She knew she should have given it back to John, but he'd left before she could see him, and after... she just couldn't bring herself to face him. What do you say to a man who loves you that you can't seem to love in return?  
  
She sighed, and took another drink of her coffee.  
  
What was wrong with her? What was the internal flaw that made her reject people who could love her, and love people who rejected her? The fatal flaw. The one that always seemed to get her hurt, the one that caused her to fall in love with Spike, the one that caused her to scorn John, the one that made her blush when she remembered Corbin's lips on the cigarette. She stared at the ink-black liquid in her cup, and decided it was time for something a little stronger. She uncurled her legs, stood up, placing her coffee mug on the night stand, before walking over to her desk and pouring her self a glass of scotch.  
  
"Here's to fatal flaws," she told the short-haired, tired-eyed girl in the mirror. Bottoms up.  
  
She was interrupted mid-drink by a soft rapping on her door.  
  
"Yeah, hang on..." she finished her glass on the way to the door and opened it a crack. "What is it Irm... oh!" the person on the other side was not Irma, the person on the other side was a tall, lanky man in jeans and a black tee-shirt, his green hair sticking up in unruly tufts and a sly grin slapped on his face.  
  
"Surprise," came the gritty voice.  
  
She slammed the door in his face.  
  
Corbin. She couldn't do it, she couldn't face him now. How cruel of him to surprise her like that, how insensitive of him to give her so little time to recover from their previous meeting. And a part of her was angry that he hadn't needed more time to recover too. Another unhealthy, one- sided attraction. This was the last thing she needed.  
  
She started to pour herself another glass of scotch, but instead, she lifted the bottle to her lips.  
  
Here's to fatal flaws, alright.  
  
  
  
"How'd it go?"  
  
Irma sat across from him, on a brown leather couch in the sitting room, leaning toward the matching arm chair he'd made home, and leaning over a blue glass coffee table. She looked at him expectantly, anticipating and answer to her question. He sighed.  
  
"Not as well as I expected, Irma." Corbin took a cigarette from his pack, and offered one to her before lighting his own.  
  
"No, thanks. Don't smoke. So, what did she say?"  
  
"Before, or after she slammed the door on me?" he gave her a lopsided grin, and shrugged. "Didn't get much chance to talk. Like I said, she wasn't too enthusiastic about seeing me."  
  
Irma sat back into the couch, and worried her bottom lip. "Oh, hell..."  
  
"What is it?" Corbin asked.  
  
"I made a mistake letting you aboard without speaking to her first. If she reacted like that..."  
  
"It's okay, Irma, I invited him." Faye entered the sitting room, the now half empty bottle of scotch in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. She swayed slightly in the door way, before righting herself, and gliding to the couch. She plopped down next to Irma, and took a long pull off her bottle.  
  
Corbin could smell the alcohol from where he sat. He wrinkled his nose.  
  
"You're bombed."  
  
She took the bottle from her mouth, and gave him a wink, "of course I'm not. I've only had..." she held the vessel up to check the level of the liquid inside, "one and a half of these." She gave him a triumphant nod, as if she'd just made some grand point, and took another swig.  
  
Corbin reached and took the bottle from her hands. "I think you've had enough."  
  
Faye's eyes flashed fire, "who made you king of the hill?" She rose to her feet, but too quickly, and vertigo coupled with drink sent her falling to the floor. Corbin caught her just as she was about to smash through her coffee table.  
  
He gave Irma a weak smile, "I'd better put her to bed."  
  
"You'd better." Irma agreed.  
  
  
  
  
  
The howls of "put me down," "take your filthy hands off me," "I'm not even tired," and of course, "I can hold my liquor," subsided after a moment, and as he carried her down the hall, she didn't struggled once. By the time he reached her bedroom, she had rested her head against his chest and nearly fallen asleep. He shifted her in his arms, more uncomfortable by her closeness than by her weight, and she sighed deeply.  
  
Trying to hold her with one arm, and pull back her sheets with the other should have been a gargantuan effort, but he pulled it off with surprised ease, sweeping back the layers of satin and quilt. He placed one knee, and his free hand on the spongy mattress, and lowered her into her sheets. She clung to his neck for a moment, holding his shoulders over her, his face near hers, and for one panicked, breathless moment, he was sure she was going to open her eyes and raise her head enough to connect the two of them, but then her grip relaxed, and he began to breathe.  
  
He tried not to look at her, as he pulled the covers up to her neck. He tried to focus on the floor, or the ceiling, or the ice cold cup of coffee sitting on the night stand, anything to avoid noticing that she looked like an angel when she slept. Anything to tune out her rhythmic breathing. But as he turned to shut the door behind him, a shaft of light entered through the closing door, cut the darkness, and fell across her face, and he couldn't help but look.  
  
*Click*  
  
He leaned against the closed door, and drew a ragged breath. Another sleepless night for old Corbin.  
  
As he turned toward the guest quarters on the other end of the ship, Irma peaked around the corner, a knowing smile decorating her serene face.  
  
  
  
  
  
Faye walked down an endless corridor of familiar eyes. Glass coffins, one after another, motionless bodies staring sightlessly at her. Each step felt like a dagger through her heart, but she had to do it.  
  
They all looked like him. Any one of them would do. Any one of them to give to Kataki... he'd be fooled.  
  
"Like being in a wax museum, isn't it?" his grating, sarcastic voice coming at her from all sides. "Creepy."  
  
Faye's eyes widened in fear as a thousand lips moved in unison.  
  
"No..." she managed weakly, and started to run. "No!" she screeched. Her feet pounded the tile as she raced along. This isn't happening.... they're in stasis... this isn't happening... There was a pounding in her ears as a thousand Spikes raised their fists to beat on the glass of their stasis units.  
  
This Isn't Happening!  
  
The pounding was real, it felt like someone was using heave machinery inside her skull, she didn't bother fighting the nausea, she knew she'd feel better once she'd expelled all the toxins that were still in her stomach, she just reached for her waste basket, she'd have to wash it out later, but she wasn't going to make it to the toilet.  
  
After being violently ill, she got shakily out of bed, and made her way to the bathroom. She would flush the contents of her waste basket, then brush her teeth, and after that she'd deal with this headache.  
  
"Oh... never again, I'll never drink again." Another promise she wasn't going to keep.  
  
  
  
"Yes Father, he's refused to come... No, he's still alive, I'm sure of it... And now he's gone to those friends of his... No, I haven't failed yet, he still doesn't know he hasn't unlocked his potential, and until he does, he'll be an easy target... yes, I'll be sure he doesn't have the chance."  
  
The flame haired woman took the earpiece from her ear and smashed it beneath her boot heel. She ran a pale hand through her long mane, and had she been a cat, her tail would be lashing back and forth in agitation.  
  
"Ah... Corbin," Eve said, "you just don't make things easy, do you?" 


	4. Cloud Gazing

She gathered her flame hair into her hands, pulling it up to the crown of her head, then securing the ponytail with an elastic band. Her strange eyes, eyes that were the color of the sea as seen from an ariel shot of a tropical paradise, examined her handiwork in the vanity mirror. She'd managed to tame most of the unruly mop, but her bangs, which were getting too long to be convenient, were still too short to be held by the hair-tie. She tossed her head to move them from her vision, but they quickly settled back over her aqua orbs.  
  
"Stubborn..." she mumbled, then curled her thin lips into a smile. "Looks better this way, anyway."  
  
She pushed her chair back from the vanity, and stood up to get a look at the rest of her. Her reed-thin frame was covered in a fitted white button-up shirt, it's long sleeves unbuttoned at the wrist, and covering all but the very tips of her fingers, and, of course, black leather pants. She tilted her head to the side. Only one thing missing.  
  
She swept the leather jacket off the back of the chair, and pulled it on over her shirt. She adjusted the over-long sleeves, and checked her appearance again. Perfection.  
  
The hotel room, on the other hand, wasn't in such good shape, though, she thought with a smile, it was much better than she'd left Corbin's. At least the door was still on the hinges, and it still had its windows. Still... she hadn't been in a very good mood when she got back to her own hotel. She felt a slight twinge of guilt, she'd taken out her frustration at her failure on the furniture, tipping over tables, tearing up the sofa, that sort of thing, and now the maid was going to have to clean it up.  
  
She bit her lip, then knelt down by the bed, fishing under it for her backpack, the only piece of luggage she ever carried. She felt the nylon strap, and gave it a yank, pulling it up, and tossing it onto her disheveled bed with a look of triumph. She spent a moment diving through it, and came up shortly with a 50 wulong note, which she folded neatly, and set on the table next the bed before slinging the bag over her shoulder, and making her exit.  
  
Getting near Number 26 wasn't going to be easy now that he was with that Faye woman. It was a lot easier to get close enough to strike when he wasn't on a ship, isolated from other humans, but Eve wasn't about to let that stop her. She'd follow them, they had to stop somewhere, and then, she'd catch him... alone... and off his guard.  
  
  
  
Corbin watched the smoke from his cigarette swirl against the ceiling, the shifting shadows made a billion and one patterns on the white tile. He had a brief flash of himself, pressed into the earth by a weight against his chest, he looked down to see the top of a golden head over his heart, then he was watching the clouds. That's what this was like, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Cloud gazing. If he squinted, he could just make out Faye's profile.  
  
He growled and closed his eyes.  
  
Faye again. Between his dreams of Eve, and the fact that he couldn't close his eyes without seeing Faye's face again, just as it had been in the shaft of light, he'd lain awake all night. And now he couldn't even smoke without thinking about her. He'd remained in bed long after his alarm had sounded, because, for some reason, he couldn't bear to face her today, to see that peaceful face full of hatred. He wasn't in the mood for her verbal barbs.  
  
He had another flash, this one of Faye in a pair of gold hot pants, and his eyes flew open as he sat up. This was pointless, he pulled on his pants, and tucked his gun into his belt before heading to the door. He was going to get some breakfast.  
  
Damn borrowed past, all he wanted was a moment of peace.  
  
He could hear the sounds of wretching from the bathroom the moment he opened his door, and smiled. Some hang over... a part of him thought it was poetic justice for the fact that he'd gotten no sleep again. Take that.  
  
He smiled.  
  
He entered the sitting room and his heart skipped a beat. Over the back of the couch, he saw a head of red hair. Eve. He instinctually pulled his gun.  
  
Out of nowhere, a streak of brown shot across the room and latched itself onto his heel.  
  
"Yeow!" he yelled, shaking off what he realized was a Welsh Corgi. He booted the animal into a wall. It shook itself, then launched itself back toward him.  
  
"Ein!" came the sharp voice from the girl behind him. The dog stopped in its tracks, but continued to growl at him.  
  
He turned to face a young girl, that he hadn't met before. He tucked the gun back into his waistband, and the Corgi was silent. Now that he had a better look at her, he saw that her hair was too short, and not quite the right shade of red to be Eve's. Not to mention the fact that she wasn't tall enough, or pale enough, and her eyes were a shade of yellow, a far cry from aqua. He scolded himself mentally for being so jumpy. "Sorry about that, I mistook you for some one else."  
  
"I was about to say the same to you..." she answered. She hopped over the back of the couch, and gripped his chin in her hand, pulling him roughly down, "but then I realized I had to be wrong." She pointed to his eyes, and gave him a wink, "you have a different spark, see."  
  
Corbin pulled his head from her grip, and stepped back, dumbfounded.  
  
"Who are you?" he managed to form after a while.  
  
"Ed?" the answer came from over his shoulder.  
  
The girl ran past him to the woman who'd just spoken. She launched herself at Faye, knocking her over, and sending the both of them rolling onto the floor. "Faye Faye!" Ed squealed.  
  
"Ah! I haven't seen you in months." Faye asked, disentangling herself from the teen, then getting to her feet before offering Ed assistance in the form of an outstretched hand.  
  
Ed took it with a smile, and let Faye pull her up.  
  
"What brings you here?"  
  
Ed's smile melted away like snow. "I saw a story in the Venus Sun, apparently the authorities are looking for the woman who trashed a hotel room, and threatened the tenant. Guess who the tenant was," she said, jerking her head in Corbin's direction.  
  
"What!"  
  
"Uh, yeah..." Corbin started, with a nervous smile. "I was going to tell you last night, but..."  
  
"That's okay," Faye said, not wanting a recap of her drunken escapades, "tell me now."  
  
He shrugged, and walked over to nestle into the arm chair. The two ladies took their cue from him, and sat on the sofa.  
  
"How do I start... well, about a week ago, I started having these dreams..."  
  
  
  
Eve shadowed them, staying far enough behind not to be noticed, but close enough not to loose them. She'd been reading up on these people that Number 26 had fallen in with. They were apparently friends of his genetic donor, bounty hunters. Their team was supposedly the best in the galaxy. But then, they'd never gone up against anything like Eve. She smiled. Like taking candy from a baby.  
  
  
  
Jet's garden had been woefully neglected since the moment Faye'd asked him for help with Kataki's little assignment, and he was glad to finally have a little time to spend on it. It was a bad time for Faye to be calling.  
  
Jet sighed and answered the ring.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Well, he's here, but it seems there's more to this than bad dreams."  
  
He felt like he'd just entered in the middle of the conversation. "Huh?"  
  
"Corbin... the errand... ringing a bell?"  
  
"Of course." he answered, feeling back on track now. "What is it, he's okay, right?"  
  
"Yeah, but there's something going on here, and I don't like the smell of it. We're going to be in the area in a day or so, could you get him an appointment with a neurologist? I've got a hunch about these dreams... Dimitri mentioned something about planting a suggestion in the subconscious of the subjects, I think someone planted a different suggestion than the one Dimitri intended."  
  
"But, I thought Corbin never made it to that stage."  
  
Faye smiled mysteriously, "Maybe he didn't."  
  
"I'll make a few phone calls."  
  
"Hey, Jet.... thanks."  
  
Jet sat down cross-legged on the floor, and set the clippers in his lap. A suggestion... for what purpose?  
  
  
  
Corbin looked at himself in the mirror, staring intensely into his eyes. A different spark in them? He certainly hoped so. He was a different person, after all, wasn't he?  
  
He sighed, and his gaze wandered up to his hairline. A neurologist? What would he find in there? That was the only place he was really different from Spike... in there... the only place the difference had been enough to matter. Had someone really invaded that place, defiled it's sanctity, left a little suggestion for him? He was suddenly furious at the idea of someone else treading around in his cranium. He wasn't about to follow any suggestions.  
  
He took up the toothbrush with a vicious force, coating it with paste, and rubbing it along his teeth and gums. He spat, brushed some more, spat again, and rinsed his brush.  
  
  
  
Faye was sitting at the breakfast table when Irma came in.  
  
"Who is that young lady in the sitting room?"  
  
Faye smiled to herself. "That would be Ed."  
  
Irma nodded, "your hacker friend," she glanced over her shoulder, "not quite what I expected."  
  
Faye smiled. Not quite what she expected... now that was the perfect way to describe Ed. She saw Irma raise an eyebrow for an explanation. Faye shrugged in response, and raised her coffee cup to her lips.  
  
"So Corbin's locked himself in the bathroom, we have an odd new guest, and you're at a lack for words, what's up?"  
  
Faye chuckled, but it was without any real humor. "I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out." 


	5. Breakfast

Corbin wasn't sure if it was someone watching him that woke him up, or if he woke up, then realized that there was some one watching him, but he suddenly became aware of a presence hovering over him. He reached up on reflex, and grabbed the offender by the arm, tossing the body to the mattress with one hand, and reaching for his gun with the other.  
  
"Hey, watch it!" Ed said, sounding slightly annoyed at staring down the barrel of a gun.  
  
Corbin sighed with relief, and released the girl from his hold. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and dropped his head between his knees. He'd nearly shot the girl, when did he get so jumpy? When did he learn to react like that? It had happened so fast, he was barely aware of what he was doing before he'd shoved a pistol into her face.  
  
When he placed the gun back on his night stand, his hands were visibly shaking, but Ed pretended not to notice.  
  
There was a long silence before he spoke.  
  
"What do you want, Ed?" he said, in a voice so quiet the hacker had to strain to hear him.  
  
"Is it true?" she asked, tentatively.  
  
"Is what true?" He reached a shaky hand into his t-shirt pocket, and pulled out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes.  
  
"You know..." She leaned over, and rapped her knuckle lightly on his forehead.  
  
"Oh, that." He lit his cigarette, and inhaled tar and nicotine into his lungs. "Who knows," he said, as he exhaled.  
  
Ed stood, as if to go, but stopped half way to the door.  
  
"Guess we'll find out soon enough, we're on Ganymede, and you do have that appointment."  
  
She flashed him a goofy grin, and dashed out of the doorway.  
  
Corbin threw himself back onto the bed, and pulled the covers over him. Could he hit the reset button on this morning?  
  
  
  
The ship swayed gently with the rocking of the waves. To and fro, to and fro... Faye closed her eyes, and buried her nose in her coffee cup, inhaling it's rich aroma. Normally, she'd be sitting here with Irma, but she'd told her assistant to sleep in today, and she savored this time alone, to gather her thoughts. And she had a lot to gather.  
  
When did life get so complicated?  
  
She fiddled with the ring on her finger again, twisting it, grinding the stone into the tender flesh of her palm... she had no right to keep it, not when they'd parted so badly. She hated herself for not being able to love John, for refusing herself happiness, but what else could she have done?  
  
She turned her attention to her breakfast, in a vain attempt to divert herself. Bacon, eggs, toast... She hoped that she'd managed to stumble on a recipe for amnesia. Funny, once all she'd wanted was to remember, now she wanted to forget. Selective amnesia, forget all the pain, remember the laughter. And while she was at it, she could forget the glinting eyes, and the curve of a smile that had gotten her into this mess to begin with. Corbin's stolen face. She couldn't look at that face without seeing Spike, as she'd seen him for the last time... leaning over her, his face so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her lips, the suicidal glint in his eye. Most of the time, it was painful to look at that face... and then... she shuddered as an image of his lips wrapped 'round her cigarette flashed through her mind, sometimes it hurt even worse.  
  
She placed her forehead on the table, narrowly missing her plate, and sighed deeply. She smelled cigarette smoke all around her, and opened her eyes to see herself caught in a cloud of smoke. Her gaze drifted to the end of the table, where Corbin was standing in worn blue jeans and a crumpled looking white t-shirt. . She hadn't even heard anyone come in. Faye swallowed the lump in her throat, along with the thought that he looked very good in the basics. God, he really had a way of cluttering her thoughts. She hated it. She curled her lip in annoyance and looked up from her eggs long enough to give him a sneer.  
  
"Morning. sleep well?" she said, in an overly sweet tone.  
  
He plastered a careless smile on his face, and dropped into the seat opposite her. "Wonderfully."  
  
"Glad to hear it." god that mocking tone was annoying. She focused her attention on her eggs, attacking them as if they had somehow wounded her. "What do you want?"  
  
"Cup of coffee?" he said, hopefully, then began chuckling, as she snarled at him.  
  
The laughter was more than she could stand at the moment, it took the last bit of civility right out of her. "Get it your fucking self." she spat. She wanted her alone time.  
  
His crooked smile was her answer. He made no move to get himself a cup, instead, he leaned over the table, and waggled his finger in her face.  
  
"Temper, temper."  
  
She resisted the urge to bite it.  
  
"Why do you insist on ruining my morning?" she asked between mouthfuls of toast.  
  
"Misery loves company," he said, then yawned. "So, when is this appointment?"  
  
"11 o'clock... we've got about an hour and a half."  
  
"Dr. Slagg, right?" he sighed, and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "What good is this supposed to do, huh? I mean what are they looking for anyway?"  
  
"I don't know... anything,"  
  
He gave her a wry smile. "Anything? Well, at least you know they'll find it."  
  
Faye raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not so sure."  
  
"Ouch, now that was a low blow, even for you."  
  
She stood up, knocking her chair backward, and managed, just barely to keep from launching herself over the table at him. "I'd better go change..." she mumbled, and walked off.  
  
Corbin sat for a minute, staring at her overturned chair. There it was again... that uncheckable desire to irritate Faye as much as possible. He sighed, she did make it easy, though. He believed that he had the power to irritate her more than anyone else. It wasn't a thought her relished.  
  
He took the final drag of his cigarette, drawing the life giving vapor into his strained and battered lungs, and holding it there for a split second before releasing it in one ragged, soul draining breath. He felt bare, stripped naked, like he'd exhaled all the crap and meaningless banter, and cut straight through to the emotion underneath, but just long enough to catch a glimpse of what lay there. He saw fear, anger, and... no, now he lost the image, as he heard a cough behind him, coming from the doorway.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder to see Dimitri's doll leaning against the frame.  
  
"I passed the Miss Valentine on my way in here, she looked really ticked off..." she said, circling the table until she reached Faye's chair, which she righted, then sat in. "Are you always that smooth?"  
  
Corbin smiled, "only when I'm with her."  
  
  
  
  
  
Eve closed the top of her lap top with an angry shove. Corbin was supposed to be going in for a neurological scan today... this was bad. She had to reach him before he could be examined, otherwise... she didn't even want to think about it.  
  
"That doesn't leave me much time."  
  
  
  
Ed was surrounded by a sea of digital images, binary stretched out endlessly before her in a twisting ribbon. She was immersed in ever shifting color and light, images popped up then dissolved around her, a meadow in spring, a smiling family, most aimless but in a few places there was a direct purpose. She watched this all, making sense of the chaos, this was what she her world. Here she was queen. This was The Web.  
  
She'd been like this for a while, just how long, she couldn't tell, but she could feel her legs beginning to cramp from sitting cross legged for hours on the floor. She looked down to where they should have been, and sighed. She couldn't see them of course, she had a VR visor on, but she knew they were there.  
  
"Just a little bit longer." she told them, then inhaled sharply. The fog was shifting, and she didn't like what she was seeing. It was one of those images... this one she recognized, though. It was Corbin. Someone was accessing information on him.  
  
She tried to counter the other hacker, but whoever was after the information had already gotten it. She bit her lip in frustration, just a few moments sooner. She hadn't even had time to trace them.  
  
Ed slid the visor from her head, and slowly uncurled her legs, stretching them gently before she tried to stand on them. Her muscles screamed in protest as she pushed herself off the floor, but she ignored them. She was going to have to tell Faye.  
  
  
  
Not now! She screamed silently, and sunk under the surface of her bath water. She was just going to ignore the pounding until it went away. Yep, the squirt could bang on the door until her arm fell off, but there was no way Faye was getting out of this bath before she was good and ready.  
  
She didn't even get up when the pounding intensified, and Ed's voice was joined by a deep male one... sounded like Jet, he was supposed to meet them at the doctors, why had he shown up so soon. She surfaced, suddenly curious, and grabbed a towel. "Alright, alright, you can stop pounding now, I'm on my way." she wrapped herself tightly, and stalked to the door, pausing only momentarily to examine her death glare in the mirror, and assure herself that it was ferocious enough.  
  
She threw the door wide, and Jet stopped his fist an inch from knocking on her forehead. She narrowed her eyes at him and growled, "what is it?"  
  
"Well, I ran across a hacker today," Ed began.  
  
"And? What else is new Ed?" she asked, her voice thick with sarcasm.  
  
"She was accessing information on Corbin. Faye, I think it must have been Eve."  
  
"Eve, huh?" she looked at Jet, "that's why you came here instead of meeting us at the office, to help escort Corbin."  
  
Jet shrugged, "not that I don't trust your abilities, or anything, Faye. Just rather be safe than sorry."  
  
Faye smiled, "I think between, you, me and Corbin, she'd be crazy to try anything." 


	6. sparring

There it sat, perched precariously on the edge of the bathtub, glittering in the cold flourescent lights of the bathroom. An expression of an eternal affection. Little Platinum Circlet, who would have guessed your significance? It was such a small thing, finely crafted, inset not with a diamond, which would have been traditional, but with an emerald. He'd told her it matched her eyes perfectly, and gave it to her on bended knee.  
  
"I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you." To him, this ring had been a promise of happy ever after.  
  
To her it meant the exorcism of old ghosts, the purging of a past life. The ring meant letting go of all that she'd cherished, all that she'd held close to her heart. The pain, yes, but the pleasure to, the old love... was she ready to do that? She'd whispered 'yes,' and at the time, she'd really believed it, and she'd tried, but...  
  
Poor John... no, Poor Faye, who wouldn't allow herself to be loved.  
  
She hated the sight of that ring, and for a moment she was tempted to just give it a push into the empty bathtub. She imagined it arching from it's resting place, bouncing off the porcelain once, twice, three times with an amplified tink, then rolling around the drain, hopping every so often, as it rolled over the emerald... tighter... tighter... tighter... then *poof* gone. No more reminders of Faye's failures in love.  
  
Except one very big, poofy haired reminder with an attitude.  
  
She growled and snatched it up, cradling it in the palm of her hand momentarily before deciding to shove it into her pocket.  
  
She wondered if everyone's love life was such a mess.  
  
"C'mon," came a voice to accompany the pounding on the door. "Jet went to get you 15 minutes ago, we gotta get going."  
  
The reminder himself, she thought bitterly. The reminder, but not the memory, she told herself sternly.  
  
"I'm coming!" snappish reply.  
  
  
  
The trio waited in the appropriately named waiting room, in front of a desk where a receptionist was filing her nails in between glances at Corbin. Faye grit her teeth, and tried to ignore the prickle that the attention was causing her. What was that feeling? Anger, annoyance... 'jealousy' sprang un-bidden to her mind, but she shoved that thought into the deepest recesses of her mind, stomped on it, and burnt it to a crisp. Not jealousy... it couldn't be that. But her eyes flashed fire as the receptionist caught Corbin's eye and gave him an enticing smile, which he returned.  
  
Faye looked away, staring instead out the window, into the clear blue air, 113 floors above the ground. She did a good job of not noticing Corbin rise to talk more intimately with the girl behind the desk, but when she asked for his number, her high pitched, bimbo voice echoing off the walls, the muscle below Faye's eye twitched.  
  
"Mrg..." she growled, nearly inaudibly.  
  
"What's that?" Jet asked.  
  
"Nothing..."  
  
But Faye had given up not noticing, and had moved on to anger. She just couldn't stand the way that annoying woman giggled in response to the low, gritty voice of the man before her, or the way she was always flipping her hair. Faye could feel her trigger finger begin to twitch, and shook her head impatiently. She was moments away from pulling out her gun, and filling the girl full of lead when the intercom beeped.  
  
"Send them in," the doctor said, cheerily.  
  
  
  
"Everything seems fine... I don't see any abnormalities at all." The doctor held up the CT scan and hoped they couldn't read it... or make heads or tails of the data collected on the nerve samples, which he'd laid out on the table.  
  
I'm doing the right thing, saving their lives and mine... I'm doing the right thing... the thought repeated itself over and over again in his head.  
  
"You're sure?" Faye asked, "nothing at all?"  
  
"Nope," he fidgeted with his pencil... he always fidgeted with his pencil when he lied, "Everything seems fine..." he echoed.  
  
Faye shrugged, and Jet gave her a weak smile. "Hey, it was worth a shot."  
  
"Yeah, oh well, now I guess it's back to square one," she said with a deep sigh.  
  
Corbin said nothing at all. He had hardly spoken since they got to the office, and he was more alert than he'd ever been, straining his senses to their limits. Something was wrong, something was off. He wasn't sure how he knew it, it was instinct. Maybe he smelled it.  
  
The three of them, the doctor, Jet, and Faye, were still talking, and he breathed an uneasy sigh. Dr. Slag seemed to be trying to find every different way to say that he was completely normal, and it just didn't feel right. After a moment, he took Faye by the arm, and pulled her over to the side.  
  
"Hey! What's the deal!" she growled.  
  
His actions earned him a puzzled look from both Jet and the good doctor. He gave them a wan smile, then turned to Faye. "Listen, something's not right here, I can't put my finger on it, but considering the warning Ed gave us... I get the feeling that Eve's somewhere around, and I don't know if it's some kind of ESP, or paranoia, but I'd say we should get the hell out of here."  
  
He spoke with the gravest of expressions, and he could tell by Faye's reaction that he was letting the cool mask slip, because suddenly, she seemed to really listen to him. He wondered how much she'd seen. Had she seen the anger, the frustration, the puzzlement... had she seen the fear? Had he let his mask of cool confidence slip so far as to show her that he was afraid of what would happen to him if he should fall into Eve and Father's greedy hands?  
  
He quickly smoothed over a layer of sarcastic amusement... damage control, maybe she hadn't seen.  
  
But when she answered him, it was with a simple, "okay." No bite. No cruelty. No snap.  
  
He watched as she wen t over two Jet and the Dr., the two having started the conversation back up after Corbin's interruption. "Thanks anyway, Doctor." she said, giving him a smile, " I suppose that will be everything."  
  
He nodded and shook each of their hands as they left.  
  
As he took Corbin's hand, he tensed visibly, giving it a stiff pump, and glancing nervously out the corner of his eye at the surveillance camera on the inside of the door. Corbin bit the inside of his cheek, and raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.  
  
The doctor swallowed hard, and released his hand, taking a step backward.  
  
He coughed, "I'll send the bill..."  
  
  
  
The doctor shut the door behind them and leaned on it heavily.  
  
*Clap... Clap... Clap*  
  
He turned to see the lithe figure standing behind him. He'd taken the scans, as Faye had asked, but when he went to his office to examine them, she'd been there, waiting for him.  
  
"Bravo, Doctor." she said with a smile. "You just saved their lives, and your own." she gave him a dangerous smile. "Nice to be in the business of saving lives... I wouldn't know of course."  
  
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I didn't tell them anything... you were watching, you know."  
  
Eve paced over to him, slowly, leisurely, with her hair dancing like flame. She looked like a cat with a twitching tail. The hand she placed on his shoulder was not reassuring.  
  
"Now," her purr sent a shiver down his spine, "tell me about those scans."  
  
"Er... well, it's quite astonishing, really." He stepped forward to the table, shaking her unwelcome touch away. This made her laugh out loud, and if she hadn't been so threatening, he would have thought the sound musical. As it was, it set him shaking, and he nearly dropped the chart he'd held up to show her. He took a moment to collect himself before continuing with his explanation of them.  
  
"I'm not really sure where to begin... his senses... the area of the brain used for processing sensual data is larger than normal... not overly so, I might not have even noticed, had it not been for the... other abnormalities."  
  
Eve, raised an eyebrow, quizzically, and he continued.  
  
"Well, his neurological activity is through the roof... and check out the density of these nerve cells," he held up a second visual aid, an enlarged picture taken from a cell sample he'd gathered, "I've never seen anything like this, his reflexes must be phenomenal!" He was talking faster now, more excitedly. He'd almost forgot he was in the room with a cold killer. "More strength, more endurance, faster reaction time, better senses... it looks like someone's been making improvements."  
  
The smile she gave him showed a little too much tooth for comfort, it put him in mind of a vampire. She leaned in. "It gets better, Doc."  
  
"Oh?" he couldn't help but ask, he was bound to be curious.  
  
"Yeah, it's progressive."  
  
"You mean he's still changing?"  
  
She nodded, "his body responds to stress... the more he uses it, the better it will become." She stepped forward, and with one clean easy movement, snapped his neck. "Oh, and he's not the only one," she told the twitching corpse.  
  
She tossed her hair, and calmly walked from the office, not even bothering to dispose of the body. She was untouchable.  
  
  
  
On of the first modifications Faye made to the Shadow Wolf was to put in the gym/firing range. 600 sq feet of space... mats in the corner for tumbling and acrobatics, free weights, targets, and of course, in the center of the room, a punching bag, which she was currently putting to good use.  
  
She hated vulnerability, especially from those eyes. She was used to seeing mockery in them, or anger, or annoyance, and she could deal with all those things. She knew how to handle rejection from those eyes, but she didn't know how to handle what she'd seen, because she'd never seen fear in those eyes before.  
  
Maybe she'd been mistaken, maybe that wasn't what she saw at all.  
  
She attacked the bag with a ferocity that it didn't deserve, doing her best to break it, or herself, wanting to see blood, wanting to be destroyed.  
  
She wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, she wanted to pull his head down onto her shoulder, and stroke his hair... She wanted to kill him and put him out of her misery. She wanted him out of her thoughts. No such luck.  
  
She heard someone cough.  
  
"I think the bag's had enough for one day," came the dry voice behind her, and she shuddered in recognition. Corbin.  
  
"Yeah?" she didn't turn to face him, and she didn't slow her assault.  
  
She heard his approaching footfalls, and when he was close enough she whirled without warning, and struck out at him. He dodged easily, the attempt never even cracking the smile on his face.  
  
She raised an eyebrow, "if you're so intent on giving this thing a rest, how about you take its place?"  
  
"I've never been one to walk away from a challenge," he said, peeling off his jacket, and tossing it into the corner.  
  
Faye smiled, now this would be therapeutic.  
  
She landed a punch to his jaw, and he shook his head, running his tongue along his teeth, and tasting blood.  
  
"Don't tell me you've had enough already," she asked mockingly.  
  
"Lady, I'm just getting started," he replied, grabbing her arm as she threw another punch at him, and spinning her around to hold it behind her back.  
  
"Who said I was a Lady?" she asked, and illustrated the point by digging her heel into the toe of his boots. He let go of her arm with a yelp, and she spun around, kneeing him in the groin. He doubled over, but as she was about to kick him in the face, he grabbed hold of her foot and pulled her off balance.  
  
She fell on her back with a dull thud, knocking the wind out of her. A moment later, he straddled her, took her dainty wrists into his hands, and pinned her to the floor.  
  
"Give up?" he asked, bending his face close to hers.  
  
Faye stared up into those eyes again, and now they held no fear. They sparkled with victory, they were feral eyes, wild with excitement. Her lips parted, but she found that she hadn't the breath to speak.  
  
"Ahem..." Irma cleared her throat in the door way, politely. The two glanced in her direction, and Faye was suddenly aware of the picture they must have made. She squirmed a little, but Corbin still refused to let her up.  
  
"Uh, you have a call, Corbin, it's a young lady named Candice."  
  
The receptionist. Faye felt fury rising within her, with a painfully hard jerk, she freed her wrist, and punched her captor hard in the chin before throwing him off her.  
  
"You'd better go get that," she said, springing to her feet, and returning to the bag.  
  
Corbin hesitated for a minute, before he replied, "I guess I should."  
  
With that he left the room, and Irma turned to follow, but Faye stopped her. "Wait," she said, and motioned her assistant over.  
  
"You aren't going to ask me to spar with you, are you, Miss Valentine?"  
  
Faye smiled, "no, but I have a bit of dirty work I'd like you to do for me."  
  
"Oh?" Irma asked, intrigued.  
  
Faye slipped the ring out of her pocket. "I know I'm being a real coward about this, but I can't seem to bring myself to face him... could you?" she asked, dropping the object into Irma's delicate hand.  
  
Irma knew instantly what she'd been given, and she gave her boss an understanding smile. "No problem. I'll leave right away, and meet back up with you guys later."  
  
Faye had the urge to hug her assistant, and didn't bother fighting it.  
  
"You two don't kill each other while I'm gone, okay."  
  
Faye gave her a pleading look, "pretty please?"  
  
Corbin interrupted them as he came racing back into the gym. "He's dead... ah, hell, I knew there was something wrong back in his office..."  
  
"What?" Faye asked, puzzled.  
  
"Dr. Slagg is dead, and the records, my records, have been stolen." 


	7. Jazz and Tranquilizers

"So what do you think? Should we schedule another appointment? I'd like to find out what was in that report, how 'bout you?"  
  
"It's your call." Jet said, taking a sip of his coffee as the four of them, Faye, Corbin, Ed, and himself sat around the table. Five, he supposed, if you counted Ein, who was curled up at Ed's feet.  
  
Corbin just shook his head. "No good, she stopped us once, what's to keep her from doing it again. No, all that would accomplish is to put someone else in danger."  
  
Ed nodded in agreement, and Faye shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"So what, then? Are we just supposed to ask Eve for them back?"  
  
Corbin laughed nervously, he didn't even want to think about talking to Eve again. That woman creeped him out. She hardly seemed human, and she reminded him of the lab, his place of birth. He shivered involuntarily. He didn't remember much before his escape, just blurred clips and impressions that sort of blended in with the downloaded memories he'd inherited from Spike. It was difficult to muster up anything solid. He knew, though, that he hadn't been fond of that place, and wouldn't like to go back at all.  
  
"We may not need to," Ed said, "She's obviously within striking distance, and probably actively keeping tabs on us. She's waiting for the right time to strike." She gave Corbin a funny look that might have been sympathy, "If I were you, I wouldn't go anywhere alone."  
  
Corbin smiled back, his familiar crooked grin looking reckless, and braver than he felt. "And give up my social life? Never." show no fear.  
  
"Ed, I want to know who this woman is, and where she comes from. Find her, and keep her off our backs"  
  
Ed leaned her chair back on two legs, smiling deviously "piece of cake, right Ein?" the dog looked up, and barked in response.  
  
"Good," Faye turned to Corbin, and gave him a smile that was just a little too pleased. "You might want to give Cindy a call, and let her know you wont be making that date tonight."  
  
"That's 'Candice,' and we never made a date... you know, the whole finding her boss dead thing..." he gave her a cool glare, "she just wasn't in the mood."  
  
"Really?" Faye said in exaggerated innocence, "the way she was all over you today, I would have thought there wasn't much that would put her out of 'the mood.'"  
  
"What the hell is your problem?" Corbin pushed his chair back and got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table to keep them from flying to Faye's neck.  
  
Jet coughed uncomfortably, and caught Ed's eye from across the table. He jerked his head in the direction of the sitting room, and the girl nodded emphatically. The two of them stood up from the table backing off slowly, like someone had just pulled a bomb out of their pocket and set it on the table. The slightest vibration might set it off. They worked their way back to a safe distance, then the pair bolted for the door with Ein yapping at their heels. They made it just before the explosion.  
  
Faye slid her chair back, and propped her feet up on the table, her eye's narrowing dangerously "What do you mean, what's my problem?" Faye's voice dropped to a hiss.  
  
"I mean you've been in a shitty mood ever since we got back from the doctors office... hell, you were practically trying to kill me in that practice room."  
  
"Hey, if you can't take the heat..."  
  
"Get out of the kitchen, right?" He raised an eybrow, then turned away in frustration. "Forget it, I'll handle Eve on my own, I'm outta here." He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and headed for the door. He stalked past Ed and Jet who were still watching TV in the sitting room, and making it a point not to look up from the screen, and nodded to them.  
  
"See you guys around," he called over his shoulder.  
  
There was a crash behind him like splintering wood, and he knew that Faye must have tipped her chair back beyond the point of no return in her haste to be after him. He smiled as he pictured her cursing on the kitchen floor, her short hair disheveled, her cheeks flushed with rage and embarrassment, her eyes sparkling with indignation. He almost turned around to see it, but he kept going. He didn't want to see her face ever again.  
  
  
  
"What did you do now?" Jet asked, pulling his partner to her feet.  
  
Faye dusted herself free of wood chips, and aimed a glare at him.  
  
"That wont work on me," he told her.  
  
Faye growled, and rubbed a sore spot on her hip.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Nothing..." Faye grumbled.  
  
"Sure didn't look like nothing," Ed called from the sitting room, without ever looking up from the TV.  
  
"That child has the ears of a bat..." Faye mumbled.  
  
Jet just shook his head. "Whatever it is between you two, give it a rest, will ya? He shouldn't be out there, not with Eve stalking him... go find him and bring him back."  
  
Faye crossed her arms over her chest, and shifted her weight to one leg, "why me?"  
  
"Well, I'm certainly not doing it," Jet said, and illustrated this by moving to the cupboard, and reaching into the top shelf for the microwave popcorn.  
  
"Shit."  
  
  
  
  
  
She found him easily enough. He was sitting at the bar in the nearest night club, letting sounds of a blues guitar and melancholy vocals wash over him like a breaking wave. He looked like a drowning man, at least to Faye. She took a moment to watch him smoking his cigarette, and tapping his foot to the music, before she approached.  
  
"This seat taken?" she asked, hopping up onto the seat next to his.  
  
Corbin sighed, "I suppose it is now."  
  
She spun her seat around to face the dance floor, and propped her elbows up on the counter. "What's the matter, stranger?"  
  
He gave her a sidelong glance, then smiled, he'd play along, fine, they were two strangers, meeting up in a bar. Lord knows he knew the part.  
  
"Can I by you a drink, Miss..." he gave her an expectant look.  
  
She continued to watch the dance floor. Couples swaying in time to the music. "Smith." she said after a while. "Viola Smith, and you are?"  
  
"Just call me 'Tom.'"  
  
She laughed, silently, then leaned over to him, making eye contact for the first time. "Care to dance, 'Tom?'"  
  
He sighed, and drained his drink before taking her by the hand an pulling her onto the floor. He didn't talk, didn't ask her why she'd come after him, though he wanted to. She wanted to be strangers, and he had to admit it was nice, holding her against him while they were both immersed in the music, feeling the muscles in her back as she swayed in time, smelling the scent of her shampoo... no past between them, no memories. It was nice... he wondered how long it would last.  
  
Not long.  
  
He heard the even foot steps from across the floor, pacing toward him, and he knew in an instant who they belonged to. His body tensed in anticipation, fight or flight, he was prepared.  
  
"Corbin?"  
  
"Hnn?" he answered, still straining to hear the pat... pat... pat over the music and the other shuffling feet.  
  
"What is it?" Faye asked.  
  
But he lost the sound in the crowd, and wasn't even sure he'd heard it to begin with. "I'm not sure..." He held his breath for a second, listening even harder... nothing. He shivered, then broke away from his partner, feeling a little shaky, and, strangely, disoriented. "I think those shots I took have finally hit me," he said in a whisper, as he stumbled and nearly fell. "Let's get out of here."  
  
He shrugged her had off, when she tried to help support him. He was going to do this on his own... but his vision was blurring, and he was finding it difficult to string together a thought longer than 'get to door.' The cold night air hit him like a blast, as he stumbled through the door and slumped against the wall. He heard the footsteps again, slow and measured, he heard Eve's dusty voice, but couldn't make out the words, he heard Faye's reply, then she joined him against the wall, and he wasn't seeing too clearly, but he thought that there was blood at the back of her head. Then it all went black.  
  
  
  
  
  
Eve tilted her head examining the two people against the wall. The money she'd given the bartender to slip the tranquilizers into Corbin's drink had been well spent. Faye wasn't stirring, but her chest still rose and fell... just unconscious then. "Sweet, too bad the woman's got to go." Something told Eve that there'd be trouble if she left this one alive, and if there was one thing she'd learned, it was to trust her instincts. She pulled her gun from her hip, and aimed it at Faye's head.  
  
"So long sister." 


	8. Blood

Okay, sorry it's so short, but I'm getting ready to nuke everything on my hard drive, and I figured I should get this posted today. Anyway... here's the newest chapter, enjoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
The sound of gunfire cut through the crisp night air, sending shockwaves through the air, and setting Eve's teeth vibrating, but she wasn't the one to fire. The next shot grazed her left ear, rending a gash in the cartilage before colliding with the wall at high velocity, and leaving a pit half an inch wide in the concrete block. Eve felt the trickle of blood slide down her earlobe and trace a path down her cheek.  
  
She never took her gun off Faye, but with her free hand, she reached up to catch the drop where it collected on her jaw, and held up her fingers to examine it. Crimson, and smelling faintly coppery... she had to smile. I mean, god, she bled in red, just like everyone else.  
  
When she found her voice, it was full of dark amusement.  
  
"Maybe you should spend more of your free time at the firing range," she said, lightly, "your aim's a little off." She kept her gun on Faye, and didn't even turn to see who it was behind her. She could hear his breathing well enough to know he hadn't advanced.  
  
"Oh, that?" the shooter replied innocently, "call that a practice shot, next time I'll open my eyes."  
  
Eve glanced over her shoulder, and locked eyes with Jet. He had a determined look on his face... he reminded her of a pit bull, once he locked onto something, he wouldn't let go. That was a face full of tenacity, and determination. God she hated pit bulls. Ugly little fuckers.  
  
She gave him a contemptuous smile.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the one armed man," she commented, and her smile twisted into a malignant sneer. "I go, she goes... get it, pal."  
  
Jet's eyes narrowed. He was really beginning to hate this woman. "She goes, you go... now do *you* understand *me*?"  
  
Eve tilted her head to one side, and raised one eyebrow into a perfect arch. "It appears we've reached a stalemate, then." But her eyes flashed triumph. She would take Corbin in exchange for Faye's life. She still got what she wanted.  
  
"Not exactly," now it was Jet's turn to look triumphant, "In about 30 seconds, this place will be swarming with cops... I still have some sway in the ISSP." As if in response to his words, Eve heard the whine of police sirens. Distant, but fast approaching. She could quite easily have ducked into the alley behind the club... it wasn't more than a few feet away from her, and with her heightened reflexes, it was a safe bet she could get away from him and loose herself in the night. Alone. She wouldn't be able to take Corbin with her.  
  
"Shit," she hissed under her breath.  
  
"You're going to spend several years in the women's correctional facility for attempted murder."  
  
That was all the encouragement she needed. She dashed for the shadows, and was swallowed up by night, leaving behind a curse.  
  
  
  
Jet waited for the sound of the sirens to get closer, then pass, before he reached down to sling the two bodies over his shoulders.  
  
"Idiots..." he told them, affectionately.  
  
  
  
  
  
Irma inhaled, a deep even breath, and held it. She raised her arm slowly, apprehensively, and brought her knuckles into contact with the mahogany door. And waited. A moment later she heard a stirring behind the door, and she exhaled the breath she hadn't been aware she was still holding.  
  
The wood budged slightly, and Irma spotted blue eyes in the crack.  
  
She waved, sheepishly, and gave him a weak smile, almost tempted to say, "hi, remember me?" But that would be a stupid question, right? Who forgets the time they spent as a kidnap victiim? Certainly not John, for he opened the door the rest of the way, and waved the woman in.  
  
"I didn't think I'd be seeing much of you anymore," he commented, as he led her into the livingroom. It was immaculate, nice, neat, tidy... just like John himself. Irma could see why Faye had liked him, a little order in her chaos... she could also see why it was destined to fail. Faye liked to take risks, and John was a sure thing.  
  
She took a seat on his leather sofa, and accepted the tea he offered.  
  
"How have you been adjusting to your new life of freedom?" he asked.  
  
But that wasn't the question he really wanted to ask. She could see his true question on his face. How's Faye?  
  
"I've been managing... it helps that Faye's been willing to give me a job."  
  
"Oh," there was a pain behind his eyes now, and Irma had seen him wince at Faye's name. "And what is it you do for Faye?" Does she ever talk about me?  
  
"I mostly talk to the clients, research job offers, then turn them over to Faye for approval."  
  
"Ah..." Does she know where we went wrong?  
  
"Right now, though, she doesn't have much need of my services."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"She's on a vacation, of sorts... something more pressing came up... that's actually part of the reason why I'm here." Irma dropped her head now, avoiding his searching gaze.  
  
"What is it."  
  
She reached into her pocket, and pulled out the band, running a finger over it to rid it of lint, then set it in the middle of the coffee table. "She doesn't have much work for me right now," she said quietly, "but she's got an awful lot on her plate... she couldn't make it to see you, but she needed to give you back this."  
  
She still avoided his eyes, but risked a glance at his mouth. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth in a manner that was equal parts anger and sorrow. She felt terrible. She hadn't thought she would. John was a wonderful human being, that much she knew, he was the first man who had ever seen her as a person, not a possession. She was suddenly very angry with Faye. How could she hurt such a kind man... such a caring man? How could she leave him, when he was more wonderful a man than Irma could hope to deserve.  
  
"Are you alright?" John's melodious voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that she was crying.  
  
She hurriedly wiped the salty droplets from her eyes. How embarrassing.  
  
"Yeah, it's just..."  
  
He caught Irma by the shoulders, and forced her to meet his gaze. There was an emptiness in his eyes, a wild desperate void. Faye had given back the ring... it was final... no hope for reconciliation.  
  
He kissed Irma. He was one lonely soul, cut away from the one he loved, and he was searching for a companion. He didn't love Irma, but he didn't want to be alone.  
  
Was this how Faye felt?  
  
  
  
  
  
Faye was conscious, but she wished she wasn't. There seemed to be a sort of Fourth of July fireworks festival going on inside her head. The grand finale was when she sat up, and tried to open her eyes. Color, lights, explosion. She dropped back to her pillow, and shut her eyes tight. When she got her hands on that Eve, she'd make her wish that she'd never been born.  
  
Eve. Oh, god. She must have been taken somewhere by her. She should be dead, why had Eve left her alive, and brought her along.  
  
She pushed herself off her bed and forced her eyes open, ignoring the pain, and willing them to focus. She hadn't expected to find herself back in her room. She let out a sigh of relief. Jet must have found her and brought her home. Thank god for her friends.  
  
Her door opened, and Jet came through, carrying a tray of chicken soup. God, he was truly a domestic.  
  
She smiled at him, and he set the tray down on the side table.  
  
"Glad to see you're up and about." he said enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically. The volume was too much for her aching head to bear, and she cringed.  
  
"Keep it down." she wishpered.  
  
He chuckled, but nodded in agreement. "Sorry, it's just that we've found something very exciting."  
  
Faye cocked and eyebrow, "oh?"  
  
"Yeah, Corbin..."  
  
"Corbin?." Her eyes were wide, she'd forgotten about Corbin. Was he okay, did Eve succeed in taking him back to 'Father?' Faye shuddered. She couldn't believe she'd let herself be beaten so easily. Eve didn't look like much, but she'd thrown Faye against the wall like a rag doll. There was definitely more to her than met the eye.  
  
Jet saw the sudden panic in his partners face, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Not to worry, the tranquilizer Eve gave him was a powerful one, but he'll be awake soon enough."  
  
Relaxed smiled back. "What happened?"  
  
"Like I can trust you two to take care of yourselves," he said, grinning.  
  
Faye punched him in the good arm, and sat back down on her bed.  
  
"So, what's this 'exciting' news?" she asked.  
  
Jet took a seat beside her, the grin on his face getting even wider. "Well, Eve didn't get out of that confrontation unscathed. I clipped her ear with a bullet. Drew blood." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and waved it to illustrate his point. It was covered in dirt and blood. "This is what I mopped off of the asphalt."  
  
"You have some strange hobbies, my man."  
  
He gave her a sidelong glance before continuing, "I had this analyzed by a friend... what did he say... increased functionality, and mutative properties... something like that."  
  
Faye went white. "What exactly are you saying?"  
  
"She's stronger than the average human," that was true, and Faye had the bump on the back of her head to prove it, "and she's getting stronger. She's changing into something more powerful than we've ever seen." He gave her a sheepish smile. "That isn't all, a natural evolutionary step, or anythin. Eve, it would seem, was created in a lab, just like the newest member of our team... makes you wonder what else they have in common." 


	9. Carousel

Irma watched him sleep, watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically, watched the moonlight creep over his skin, bathing him in a silver glow. He was beautiful, more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen, and all she wanted for the rest of her life was to be allowed to watch him sleep.  
  
But he still kept her ring beside the bed, and she knew that when he dreamed he dreamed of her. Of Faye. She'd admired Faye before, but suddenly she hated the woman, hated her for having scorned what Irma wanted most.  
  
He shifted, turning onto his side, and throwing an arm across her. "Faye…" he muttered, "you came back…"  
  
Irma bit her lip, tears stinging her eyes. She hated that he fucked her while thinking about Faye, and that was the biggest reason why she hated the woman. Not just because she turned away from a life Irma desired, but because John still wanted her. She would never be able to lie here with John forever, that life was denied her, because he still loved Faye. Couldn't she see that John was more beautiful than a thousand supernovae? More beautiful than a nebula in bloom?  
  
She ran a reverent hand down his face. How could Faye have left him?  
  
  
  
"How's he doing?" Faye's voice was barely above a whisper as Jet stepped out of Corbin's room.  
  
"He's doing fine," Jet assured her, then narrowed his eyes, "and how about you?  
  
He's just got to worry about sleeping off a good dose of tranqs, you, on the other  
  
hand, have incurred a serious head injury… don't you think you should lie down?"  
  
"Come on Jet, don't you know that lying down is the last thing a person with a head injury should do?"  
  
He shrugged, "it seemed like good advice."  
  
"Uh-huh…" she smiled slightly, then frowned. Corbin was safe now, she was safe, but the threat still remained. What were they going to do about Eve?  
  
"Jet, is it going to be safe to leave him here? I want to go dig that bullet out of the wall, and I'd like you to accompany me… for back up." She suppressed a shiver, "I don't want to take the chance of meeting that red- headed bitch alone. I'm not exactly at the top of my game at the moment."  
  
He nodded, "It should be fine… I mean, it isn't not like he's going to be alone here, there's always Ed… but why on earth do you want the bullet?"  
  
Faye's smile broadened into a devious grin, "I'm gonna find out what makes her tick."  
  
  
  
Irma was surprised to find the ship empty. Well, it may not have been empty, but there was no one up and about. She supposed that the Hacker may have been locked in her room, locked into cyber space, but there was no one to challenge her as she walked the hall and approached Corbin's door.  
  
She wasn't sure, really what was driving her, all she knew was that she was hurting. She hurt because John had rejected her. Oh, not directly, he never threw her out, or yelled at her for being in his bed, that would almost have been better. No, he'd been completely civil to her. Completely civil, and completely cold.  
  
She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking of Faye, imagining her body pressed against his.  
  
It was more than she could bear.  
  
She must be in love with John… had to. She had never blamed Faye, not once, for Dimitri's obsession with her. Only love could take the deep admiration she felt for her employer and twist it into bitter envy. Only love could drive her to do what she was about to do. Faye's memory had destroyed her chance at happiness, and suddenly, she wanted to return the favor.  
  
  
  
  
  
He was spinning out of control. A carousel. Flashing lights, music, mirrors, and of course, painted animals, spinning. He heard the carnival sounds, and fought the urge to vomit as the scent of buttered popcorn and cotton candy reached his nose. He began to walk, on this twirling disk, examining the animals. A few were real, like a majestic lion, frozen mid- roar, and a long necked giraffe, but most were fictional, a unicorn, a winged zebra, a magnificent oriental dragon, whose blood red scales glistened like jewels in a fire.  
  
"Have a seat." Disembodied voice on a loudspeaker, probably the conductor. Seemed familiar for some reason. Deep and raspy, it made Corbin wish he'd remembered to bring a jacket.  
  
And of course, there was one right there, draped over the dragon. A green jacket, worn in at the elbows, but promising warmth. How had he missed it before?  
  
"Have a seat," came the voice again.  
  
Corbin shivered, and took the last few unsteady steps to the dragon, pulling on the jacket before straddling the wooden beast. He felt better, much warmer, much more himself.  
  
He turned to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror and was shocked by what he saw. Now he knew where he'd heard the conductors voice before.  
  
"You aren't me." He said blankly. It looked like him, it was almost identical, but the man in the mirror… he held his head a little lower, bent with anguish, and he looked so much more tired than Corbin ever had. And his eyes, Corbin caught his breath as he looked into those eyes, there was a need for release there, a longing to die.  
  
This was Spike.  
  
"I am not you," he said, with a cruel smile, "but you aren't me, either."  
  
"A suicidal maniac? A cowboy with a death wish? Thank god for that!" Corbin bit out, a bit too harshly.  
  
"Maybe that is something to be thankful for, and maybe it isn't… chicks dig the 'suffering with inner torment' type." Spike gave him a meaningful look, "especially Faye."  
  
Corbin snorted, rolling his eyes in a 'why should I care,' manner.  
  
Spike only smiled cryptically, and got up form the mirror dragon. He started toward Corbin, stepping through the glass as if it were water.  
  
"You're a substitute," he said, drawing nearer, and pulling out a cigarette. "When she looks at you, I'm what she sees." He stopped when he was directly in front of Corbin, lighting the white tube, and inhaling deeply. Corbin shuddered, he could feel the smoke in his lungs. "When she touches you, I'm what she's reaching for," Spike said, on the exhale. Then he leaned over, whispering in Corbin's ear. "When she fucks you…"  
  
That was it. He'd heard enough. Corbin threw his fist directly into Spike's face, sending his covers flying.  
  
The carnival was gone, but Spike's mocking face lingered in the air for a moment, like a puff of smoke, before vanishing all together. Corbin sat up, more than a little disturbed by the dream, but immediately laid back down. The carousel may have been gone, but the room was still spinning.  
  
He took a deep breath to steady himself, but was reluctant to close his eyes again. The dream had disturbed him. I mean, why had he had a dream like that, such a pointless dream. And the idea of him and Faye? Really it was absurd. Why would he even feel the need to warn himself off? He needed no dream visits from dead look-alikes to tell him that she saw Spike whenever she looked at him, and hated him for the pain it caused her… well, maybe not hate, but she definitely disliked him.  
  
And his feelings for her? Hard to like someone who dislikes you so intensely.  
  
He growled, and shoved the covers off, sitting up only with great effort. Why was it so hard for him to focus this morning? He must have really been drunk last night…  
  
Last night. Faye pressed against him on a dance floor. The sound of familiar foot-steps. Eve's scent. Faye, eyes rolled back into her head, sliding down a brick wall. A trail of blood.  
  
He shuddered. Each image came in such quick succession it like a series of gut-shots. The last was the final blow. A hay-maker. He felt his heart leap up into his throat, and was filled with a burning desire to see if Faye was alright. He stood, on liquid legs, then double over, as nausea overcame him.  
  
God, he must have been unconscious for some time, because nothing came out when he gagged. Good thing too, because wouldn't Faye be pissed if she found out he'd ruined the carpets. He smirked, and straightened, realizing for the first time that he was truly back in Faye's guest room on the Shadow Wolf. That had to be a good sign.  
  
He was about to open the door, when it slid open on its own, admitting a short, blurry, dark haired object. Irma. She must have finished the little errand that Faye had sent her on.  
  
He sighed with relief, and lowered himself to the floor.  
  
"Boy, am I glad you're here. Now I don't have to wander around this tub trying to find Faye, I can just ask you."  
  
"Ask me what?" she replied, sitting down next to him.  
  
Her face was going in and out of focus, and his head was starting to pound, but he was almost positive he felt her hand trailing up his thigh. He shook his head to clear his vision, "how Faye's doing."  
  
Now she was leaning over him, and her hand had moved to his zipper. Her lips hovered over his for a moment. He knew what was happening, and a part of his mind screamed for him to stop it. "who cares?" she asked, then quickly smothered any reply with her mouth. He had a flash of guilt, accompanied by Faye's face, then he had a second flash, this one of a mocking face… his own. His vision was suddenly crystal clear, he wanted to forget Faye even existed. He put his hand behind her head, her hair wrapped around his fingers like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver.  
  
He was vaguely aware of his pants being shoved down, and the delicious feeling of flesh on flesh.  
  
Too late to stop now.  
  
  
  
  
  
She didn't feel vindicated. She didn't feel whole. She felt cheep. She felt guilty.  
  
Irma thought that she would feel better once she'd had Corbin… once she'd taken something from Faye, but it had backfired. Now she felt worse than ever. Faye never did anything to hurt her intentionally. Never. She'd even taken her in, and given her work when she was left homeless and jobless after the whole Dimitri thing. She didn't deserve a friend like that. She wanted to erase the last three days. She felt completely helpless.  
  
She turned her head to cry.  
  
"I won't tell if you won't," came Corbin's bitter voice from behind her.  
  
She nodded wordlessly, and began to sob.  
  
  
  
  
  
They weren't together. They didn't even like each other.  
  
Then why did he feel so god damned guilty?  
  
He placed his head on the cool surface of the kitchen table, like it was an executioner's block. He almost wished it was. Self-loathing was a bitch.  
  
He pulled his head off the table, and lit a cigarette, sucking the red filter for a sweet nicotine-induced calm. The cigarette was a funny thing. It tasted terrible, and it stunk, but it was amazing how one got to crave it once one got used to it. You start out sorta hating the flavor, but then, out of nowhere, you realize that nothing in the universe tastes sweeter than smoke between your lips.  
  
He took another drag. Love-hate relationship with cigarettes. Love-hate relationship with Faye.  
  
She really was like a cigarette… likely to cause cancer.  
  
"I'll take one of those," Irma intoned from behind him. She sounded as shitty as he felt.  
  
"I thought you didn't smoke." He tossed one over his shoulder, not sparing her a glance.  
  
She dropped herself into a chair across from him. Her hair was damp, and unbrushed, Corbin noted. She must have just gotten out of the shower. "I seem to be picking up a lot of bad habits from Faye," she replied glumly.  
  
"Really?" Corbin asked faking shock. "That's funny, because I was just thinking how Faye was like a bad habit herself."  
  
"What am I like?" came Faye's silk smooth tones from the door.  
  
Corbin almost ate his cigarette. He cursed himself for not listening more carefully.  
  
"Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked.  
  
She paused to consider, "no, not really, the last thing I need is to hear your thoughts on me."  
  
He gave her a devilish grin, "they might be more interesting than you think."  
  
Faye rolled her eyes, "aren't you the least bit interested in how we got back here?"  
  
"I was drugged, and you were knocked silly right before I lost consciousness, so I'm guessing Jet bailed our butts out."  
  
"Right-o," Jet said, pushing past Faye, and into the kitchen. He dropped a small metallic object onto the table in front of Corbin.  
  
"A bullet?" Corbin asked, "what's that for?"  
  
"I sent this through Eve's shoulder," Jet answered, a hint of pride in his voice.  
  
"While you were sleeping, we went back, and dug it out of the wall to get it analyzed." Faye stepped forward, tossing a report onto the table, next to the bullet. She placed both palms on the flat surface, and leaned forward. "There's something you should know about Eve… and we're going to need a blood sample." 


	10. in the exam room

Sorry about the delay folks. thanks for waiting.  
  
"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"  
  
Faye propped her elbow on the arm of her chair, and her head on her fist, and proceeded to look out the window, at the floor, at the steal legs of the uncomfortable hospital chair she was sitting in. pretty much anything that kept her eyes of Corbin, sitting on the examination table in his boxers.  
  
"There's nothing to tell," she said evasively, suddenly very interested in a stain on the toe of her left boot. Hm. slight discoloration, and blotching. probably a water stain. And they were such nice leather, too.  
  
He was so quiet; his bare feet came into her vision before she even noticed that he'd gotten up. She jumped in shock, on hand flying to her mouth to cover a yelp, and the other to her chest to cover her pounding heart. He occupied her vacated armrests with his hands, gripping the wood until his knuckles whitened. She gulped before bringing her eyes up to meet his.  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest, and did her best to keep the look on her face one of bland detachment. Difficult, considering he was leaning over her, his eyes glittering with barely checked rage, so close she could feel his hot breath against her face, and smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke that clung to his hair. God, suddenly she was dying for a cigarette.  
  
"Jesus, Faye, could you give me a straight fucking answer for once?"  
  
"Could you have a little patience, for once?"  
  
His eyes narrowed dangerously, "I'm not waiting for that doctor to come waltzing in here to tell me what's going on." The tension left his shoulders, a bit, and he lowered his head. "I want to hear it from you."  
  
Faye bit her lip, "I didn't want to say anything. not until we knew for sure. Eve is a genetic construct. Like you. we just don't know how much like you."  
  
Corbin pushed himself up, and stood back, crossing his arms over his chest, and doing his best to look nonchalant. "What does that mean?"  
  
Faye sighed, relieved and yet slightly disappointed by his withdrawl. She shook her head before plunging on, "After Jet and I dug that bullet out of the wall, we took it down, had it analyzed. It turns out that Eve is not your normal human."  
  
"Surprise, surprise." Corbin intoned sarcastically.  
  
"She was pieced together using cutting edge genetic technology. She's faster, stronger, and more adaptable than an average human. She must have been put together in an advanced lab," Faye paused, and cocked her head to one side in mock "hm. who else does Eve seem to show an interest in that was made in a lab?"  
  
"You aren't seriously suggesting."  
  
"Think about it, why else would she be so desperate to find you?" Faye leaned over the side of her chair and reached into her bag to pull out a datapad.  
  
"Ed slipped this to me, just as we were leaving. She said it was only preliminary research, and she'd need to do a little more poking around." She tossed the pad to Corbin, who caught it easily.  
  
"The guy who headed up project Pheonix. your project. was a Dr. Dominic VanHausen. Apparently before he worked for the syndicate, he was a professor at NewHarvard. before being canned for illegal genetic research. and if you'll scroll down to page 5, there's a mention of an Eden project in his work in Lansing-Medcalf, which was terminated." She let herself prattle on, when he had the text right in front of him, because she couldn't stand the silence. It kept her mind off of their proximity, and Corbin's bare skin. "The syndicate said it was too dangerous. and that's saying something."  
  
Corbin felt his stomach start to turn. It couldn't be true. It had to be a lie. There could be no similarities between He and Eve. Any minute now, the doctor would come through that door and tell them in a puzzled voice "nothing's out of the ordinary," while scratching his head, and wondering what had prompted them to come in the first place. Any minute now.  
  
He watched the door.  
  
"Corbin?"  
  
Soft, barely above a whisper.  
  
"Corbin." he knew what she was going to ask.  
  
"How did you escape? The security was air tight. you were unarmed. how did you escape from Lansing-Medcalf that first time?"  
  
".Corbin?"  
  
  
  
Irma stared up at her ceiling, thankful that Faye hadn't seen. Glad she didn't know. She was sure she'd give it away, the way she avoided eye contact with Corbin, and had taken to mumbling under her breath. But Faye hadn't seemed to notice at all, either because she was too excited about her find, or because it wasn't as obvious as Irma had thought.  
  
Probably the former, since Irma was almost positive she hadn't breathed the whole time Faye'd been here. That had to be conspicuous. It was a good thing Corbin found it easy to act natural.  
  
She sighed, and threw herself onto her stomach, burying her head in her pillow, and willing the blackness of a dreamless sleep to wash over her. She dreamed instead that she was wearing a mask, with a taller girls face.  
  
  
  
She chuckled low in her throat, as the gleam of a computer screen reflected off her hair.  
  
"Some one's looking for you, daddy."  
  
The hacker was good, Eve had to admit that. She'd already gotten a lot of information she shouldn't have before she'd managed to tip Eve off to her presence. She smiled, throwing up a wall in the hacker's way. It took only the span of a thought for the hacker to break it down. The smile melted from Eve's face. this would be a little more difficult than she'd anticipated.  
  
"Don't worry, father, I wont let you down."  
  
  
  
He wasn't really sure what made him do it. He really just wanted to shut her up, thinking about his days before the escape made his head hurt, like he was fighting with himself. There was something there he couldn't, or more likely, wouldn't remember.  
  
He told himself it was just to shut her up.  
  
He moved back to the chair, once again taking possession of the armrests, only this time he leaned forward, catching Faye's mouth in a violent, passionate kiss.  
  
  
  
Sorry it's so short, but I'm still getting back into the swing of things. Hope you guys like it. 


	11. a kiss is just a kiss

I'm usually not one to post again, so soon, but what can I say, I was on fire. Tell me what you guys think  
  
Faye reacted immediately, her body responding to him before her mind even had time to register what was going on. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She felt like she could just pull him down into her soul. Funny, she'd expected part of her mind to be screaming in protest, the same part that told her to keep Corbin at an arms length, and told her she was being stupid when the thought of their shared cigarette back in his hotel room still made her breath catch in her throat. But no, that part of her mind was quiet, kept silent by another part of her mind, one that was desperate for the sweet taste of his lips.  
  
All too soon he pulled away, and Faye made a slight noise of displeasure in the back of her throat. She stared at him dreamily... dazedly, then blinked. Once. Twice.  
  
The reality of what just happened seemed to hit her all at once, and she snapped to attention. He'd kissed her, and she'd gone to putty... how clichéd. And the fact that he still seemed so calm, so collected, made her want to wrap her slender fingers around his throat and squeeze until he stopped jerking. That bastard.  
  
"What the hell was that?"  
  
"What are you complaining about, you seemed to enjoy yourself," the lopsided grin that accompanied this made Faye ball her fists and bite her lip. She wasn't going to let him goad her into a fight.  
  
He moved back to the exam table, heaved himself up onto it, sitting with one leg dangling over the edge, and the other tucked underneath himself. He gave her a wink as he lit a cigarette that he'd taken from her while she was... distracted.  
  
"I was faking it, I should think you'd be used to that," 'How old are you, Faye,' she chided herself, but Corbin didn't seem to mind. He just sat there, smirking, and provoking murderous thoughts from his companion.  
  
By the time the door cracked, revealing the whitened head of the aged doctor, the tension was nearly thick enough to be visible. He would have turned and walked out right then, if Faye hadn't seen him, and motioned him in. He hung his head, and stepped forward, like a man headed for the block.  
  
Faye caught Corbin's eye, and indicated the doctor with a jerk of her head. He glanced over his shoulder, and coughed. He took one final drag, before leaving his perch and grinding the cigarette out on the stainless steel exam table. God damn it, he'd really needed that cigarette, too.  
  
"So," Corbin's voice was steady, but his hands were slightly shaking. He wanted to shove them into his pockets, but he didn't have any. He settled instead for crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"Sit down," the doctor said, and Corbin obeyed, then he cleared his throat. When he spoke though, it was to Faye. She was fine, he could handle her... but... after the tests, Corbin just gave him the creeps.  
  
"I don't know where you guys are from," he waved his hand absently at Faye as she opened her mouth to tell him their story, "no, nor do I want to. Your friend has come across some highly illegal technology, that much is certain. Syndicate issue, the Russians, I'd say, but that's none of my business.  
  
"Right then, you came here for a DNA analysis... here's the report," he said, handing a red folder to Faye, "now, I'm going to have to ask you two, and your friend in the lobby, to leave. I don't want to bring any trouble down on my head." He turned, and looked Corbin in the eyes for the first time, "and trust me, if you stay here too long, trouble will find you." He turned his back to them, and headed out the door. He paused in the doorway, and said, "I trust that when it does, you'll keep my name out of it."  
  
"Sure," Faye replied. He never turned around. She couldn't really blame him for being scared, the syndicate scared everyone.  
  
She sighed, and stood up, stretching her legs, and motioning for Corbin to follow her. He pulled on his pants, and t-shirt, and fell into step behind her. She was calm on the outside, if that kiss wasn't a big deal to Corbin, then it wasn't a big deal to her either. She wouldn't let it be. And it wouldn't be, if she could just get his taste out of her mouth. She sighed as Corbin followed her out, and shut the door.  
  
  
  
Jet leaned against the exterior wall of the office, breathing in the Ganymede air. It had a distinct taste to it, one that he found he missed when he was gone from it for long. Unfortunately, it was also one that he'd begun to find choking when he had to endure it for long periods of time. Yeah, all in all, it was a good thing he'd come out of retirement.  
  
He took another puff, and smiled up into the sky. Yeah, Ganymede had once been his home, but now, that was.  
  
He dropped his cigarette into the ash tray, just as Faye and Corbin came out the front door. He started to hail them, but stopped short. They were standing next to each other, but neither one of them was saying a word. That was a rarity, they were always snapping at each other. Well, they weren't snapping now, he supposed he should be happy, but they weren't exactly being friendly, either. Corbin was standing stiffly, smoking a cigarette, and Faye was glaring daggers into his back. Snapping would have been an improvement.  
  
"Hey, guys," he waved, finally, "what's the verdict?"  
  
  
  
Jon felt like a heel. He looked at himself in the mirror of the men's room in his law office, and he wasn't sure he liked what he saw.  
  
He'd used her. He'd been looking for a way to forget his heartbreak, and she'd been convenient, it wasn't fair to her. And he what was worse, was that he found her really wanted to be fair to her. Irma. He didn't want to use her. He liked her too much.  
  
He growled in frustration, not something he would usually do. He was usually very cool. Faye had never frustrated him, except when she kept pushing back their wedding date, and sometimes it almost felt like she was doing her damnedest to irritate him. When she'd run off on a long job, and not breath a word of goodbye to him, or when they'd go out for dinner and she'd sit in silence for 20 minutes. That he'd never found frustrating, but for some reason, Irma had the power to get under his skin. And he hated himself for it.  
  
He cared for her, he didn't want to use her. But he also didn't want to fall in love with her. Faye may not have frustrated him, but she had hurt him very badly, worse than he wanted to admit. He wasn't ready for that sort of pain again.  
  
He splashed his face and toweled himself dry, rubbing the rough paper over his face. He didn't feel like going back to work, maybe he'd take off early today.  
  
  
  
Ed scratched Ein behind the ears, her hand absently ruffling his fur, as she worked to get past the roadblocks Eve was throwing in her way.  
  
  
  
"Erg," she screeched, after a moment. "This is taking too long, I can't seem to get past her." She flipped up her goggles, biting her lip. Ein nuzzled her now limp hand, then climbed up onto her lap, and licked her on the cheek. Ed smiled in spite of her anger, and patted him gently. "You want to give me a hand?"  
  
"Bark!" Ein responded emphatically.  
  
Good enough for her, she slipped her extra VR set over his head, and the dynamic duo, were at work. 


	12. bodies on board

There were too many bodies on board for Faye's liking. The Shadow Wolf had been designed to comfortably house 3 people, not 5 and a dog. Not that she didn't love being close to Ed and Jet again... just not quite that close. And yet, part of her was glad of their company, they were just one more buffer between her and Corbin. And she was grateful for any buffer between her and Corbin.  
  
Corbin... she felt sick. She played it cool, but she was screaming inside, fighting back tears, and she found herself alternately walking on air, and then hating herself for it. The after effects of that stupid kiss. Common sense told her that she should talk to him about it privately, but pride kept her from doing so. Pride and fear that is, she was scared to be alone with him, she was scared of what she might do, and what she might show. She was scared to let her mask slip. Because, truth be told, no matter how much she hated him for not being Spike, and no matter how much she told herself she could never feel for a copy what she had felt for the original, she had to admit that she was at least very attracted to him.  
  
Faye rested her head on her folded arms, and let her cigarette smolder. She heard the heavy footfalls enter the kitchen, and the softer ones that accompanied them. Ed and Jet. She raised her head slightly, and felt a headache brewing between her eyes. Ed had her laptop slung over her shoulder, that meant only one thing.  
  
"You two taking off for the night?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, just wanted to give you a brief update before we take off," Jet said, then turned it over to Ed.  
  
"Well, all I have to report is that I have nothing to report." She scratched her head, and smile sheepishly. "Ein and I ran into a bit of trouble, and we had to quit before we could get it sorted out," she leaned over and gave Faye a conspiratorial wink, "Ein had to take a walk. but we're going to finish up back on the Bebop, now that I'm no longer needed to watch over Corbin, and I should have more for you tomorrow morning."  
  
Faye smiled and reached up to ruffle the teen's hair, "don't sweat it, kid. Listen, you get some rest, and get started again in the morning. Whatever the info is, it can wait, 'cause god knows, I am." She stretched her arms above her head, "it's been an interesting 2 days."  
  
So much for one more buffer.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It seemed like all he did these days was stare sleeplessly up at a ceiling. He hated Spike. Hated him. And he couldn't even wish the bastard was dead. He put his smoldering cigarette to his lips and inhaled. He'd heard somewhere that smoking in bed was dangerous.  
  
"Fuck it." Exhale.  
  
He could still hear that grating, identical voice. "when she looks at you, I'm what she sees."  
  
God, he was such an idiot.  
  
How could he be stupid enough to kiss her? He wasn't even sure why he'd been so desperate to stop her from asking that particular question. How had he escaped from Lansing-Medcalf, when he was weakened and unarmed? God, even just asking himself gave him a splitting headache, but did he have to kiss her? The headache that the question gave him was nothing compared to the one that ripped through his skull the moment their lips met. A series of images, flashing past his mind. The image of Faye in the shower again, a moment, Faye hanging off the arm of a blonde man in a cowboy hat and a flash of emotion that wasn't his own. Jealousy? Blonde hair and pink lips. Faye's dangerous grin. The two of them, nose to nose, so close he could feel her breath in his face, and there were tears streaming down her cheeks. Images of a borrowed past, but something else too, something that, frighteningly enough, belonged to him. Intense desire.  
  
He'd wanted her, and by the way she'd reacted, she felt the same, but then Spike's face had danced before his vision again. "When she touches you, it's me she's reaching for." Then he'd just felt sick. He'd nearly allowed himself to be fooled, but Faye hadn't wanted him, she'd wanted Spike, and Spike was some one that he refused to be.  
  
But he was good at being cool, good at feigning unaffectedness. She never suspected that his shaking hands had nothing to do with the results of his test. Thank god.  
  
Fuck, when had things gotten so God damned complicated.  
  
Who was he kidding... there had never been a moment in his life when things weren't complicated, why should he give Faye all the credit. He rose up on his elbows, laughing in spite of himself. Yeah things were never dull with good old Corbin. Sometimes he just wished they would be.  
  
He sighed as he felt a pang in his stomach that he recognized as hunger. Dinner time already? He'd made straight for his room upon their return, hoping to not have to talk to Faye, and he wasn't about to ruin his odds now, by slipping out of his room and into the kitchen at an hour when she was sure to be up. No, he would just wait for the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall to her bedroom.  
  
He hadn't eaten anything in hours, though, and now that he realized he was hungry, he also realized that he'd been hungry for some time. He rolled off the bed with an athletic grace that made the action seem worthy of consideration as an Olympic event, and pulled a white tee shirt on before re-tying the string of his sweats, and opening the door. The kitchen was just down the hall, and it would only serve Faye right if he raided her fridge, provided he could get past her to reach it.  
  
Call it payback for all the times he and Jet had to go hungry because She'd wolfed down the last can of beans.  
  
No... no, scratch that, Spike and Jet, not he and Jet. Another one of Spike's annoying little memories intruding on everyday life.  
  
He growled to himself, and flipped on the kitchen light. He was in luck, Faye was nowhere to be seen. Now, he supposed, would be the time for him to open the fridge, but suddenly, he wasn't very hungry. He was too disturbed. He sank down into a chair at the table. It used to be that one of Spike's memories felt like an invader in his mind, now it was getting hard to distinguish which ones belonged to him, to Corbin, that is, and which belonged to the other. It irked him, especially since part of him believed that one of the things that kept him sane was the knowledge that, while he shared Spike's memories... up to a point, that is... they were two separate people.  
  
Yeah, things had always been complicated. Maybe a little more so now, with Jet and Faye, and Ed and the Bebop to help keep the memory fragments popping up, and with the introduction of the psychotic chick on his tail, and the now information that he wasn't just a clone, but a modified one, cooked up to be faster, stronger, more agile... and generally more lethal... than the original.  
  
Well, maybe they hadn't looked at the test results yet, but judging by the good doctor's reaction, it was safe to say that Faye's suspicions on the subject had been confirmed. He was like Eve.  
  
The thought still made his head swim a little. Honestly, it brought up more questions than it answered. Like what was Dr. Dominick VanHausen doing, creating subjects like Eve to begin with? Why had he felt it necessary to use his research in the phoenix project? Why was he so determined to get a hold of Corbin?  
  
It was all a little too weird. I mean, you'd think he would have noticed these "special capabilities before."  
  
He stood up from the table, convinced that the only thing that could satisfy him now was not food, but a very long sleep. To illustrate this he gave a hefty yawn, and dragged his feet over to the door. He was just about to hit the light, when he noticed the sound of breathing from the sitting room, through the door on the opposite side of the kitchen. He turned around, filled with a burning curiosity to see who was sleeping there. Not that he didn't know... He hadn't heard her trip past his door, after all, he really just wanted to confirm.  
  
He crept forward, on padded feet, and not a whisper of sound betrayed him. Even his breathing fell into rhythm with hers, as he moved, resembling more a prowling cat than a man. He reached the doorway, but did not turn the light on. What came pouring through the kitchen door was more than enough for him to see by.  
  
He'd spent the earlier part of the evening avoiding her, and now he found himself creeping ever forward. Sometimes he just didn't understand himself. He went to the side of the couch, straightening suddenly, and stretching lightly, as if in preparation. It was only fair, if he couldn't sleep, then neither would she.  
  
"Faye," he whispered, in her ear, his tone playful, and light. She just drew the afghan up around her chin, and mumbled something unintelligible.  
  
His grin must have gone from hear to hear. He bent over again, this time he was so close, his lips actually brushed her earlobe. "Faye! Wake UP!" he yelled, at the top of his voice.  
  
She sat bolt upright, murder on her mind, and fire in her eyes. She didn't even wait for the images that met her blurry eyes to become focused, she just lunged immediately for the object roughly in the shape of a lanky man, and tackled it to the floor. A moment later, her vision was clear, and she was straddling a smirking Corbin, and holding her gun to his head.  
  
"If you ever pull a stunt like that again.."  
  
But he was laughing at her. She growled low, and rapped him on the side of the head with the barrel of her gun. Then rolled off him, but didn't get up. Instead she laid next to him, on her back, her gun resting on her stomach, and her hands folded over it, and sighed.  
  
"You act like such a child sometimes," she said, trying to keep the grin out of her voice.  
  
"Is that so? I suppose you could say that I'm in a sort of childhood."  
  
She lit a cigarette, and Corbin watched her face catch the light of the flame, outlining her features in red, before she put the lighter out, then he watched the red arch of her cigarette, as it made the journey from her lips, to her stomach, and back again.  
  
"Well?" she said after a moment.  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"Well," she said, turning over on her side to face him, "why did you disturb this sleeping beauty from her slumber.  
  
He shrugged, "couldn't sleep, figured it wouldn't be fair if I was the only one."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't want to be unfair," she said, dipping each word in acid.  
  
"I had hoped you'd say that."  
  
  
  
  
  
If you were patient enough, and worked hard enough, success would always come to you, that's what the galaxies greatest computer hacker had learned through years of hard work and experience. And now here was the proof.  
  
Ed smiled, as she copied the file to a CD. Should she call Faye now, and tell her? A glance at the clock told her it was nearly 4 a.m. The bounty huntress would most certainly be asleep, and Ed knew how she felt about being disturbed when she was sleeping... oh well, she supposed she could wait 'till morning.  
  
She set her VR unit on the ground next to her bed, and slipped the one from Ein as well. The Corgi shook his head, scratched his ears, then jumped up into bed with his master. 30 seconds later, the pair was asleep. 


	13. scissors

*"I was hoping you'd say that."*  
  
She hadn't known why the words had sent a chill down her spine, traveling through to her nerve endings like electricity through a copper wire, but she was beginning to get the picture. She ducked, narrowly dodging a kick aimed at her head. It didn't matter, though, since a second kick, aimed for her stomach, and coming lightning fast off the first, made connection. It would have been a staggering blow, had her attacker not pulled back at the last minute. As it was, it still knocked the wind out of her.  
  
She doubled over, panting, and managed to catch a flurry of motion out of the corner of her eye. She threw herself out of the way, rolling on the floor mats until she her feet were under her, then standing up. She felt the blood pumping in her ears, and sweat was stinging her eyes, rolling down her cheeks, and soaking her shirt. She was suddenly grateful for her short shorn hair. she couldn't imagine how difficult this would be with all that hot hair at the back of her neck.  
  
"What exactly is this supposed to accomplish again?" she asked, right before charging her opponent.  
  
"Come on, aren't you having fun?" Corbin's voice held a little too much nonchalant humor in it for her liking, and Faye was overcome by the urge to wipe the grin off his face. Too bad she was having so much trouble landing a punch.  
  
"Hold still, damn it!" She shrieked, as he dodged yet another attack, this time, grabbing her wrist as it sailed past his head, and pulling her off balance. He laughed, low in his throat, his eyes dancing with merriment.  
  
He really was having fun.  
  
Faye narrowed her eyes, and twisted her wrist in his grip, until it was she who had a hold of him. She was already going to fall, but she'd be damned if she wasn't taking him with her. She threw all of her weight forward, and twisted her body, throwing Corbin a good seven feet across the room.  
  
She watched him twist in mid air, arching his body like some circus performer, reacting to her throw as if it had been planned and rehearsed that way. He landed on his feet, and crouched low, like some jungle cat, panting, and sweaty, just like her, but also grinning. He was ready for her next assault.  
  
God that grin was infuriating. it was just like old times.  
  
She straightened up, suddenly, her posture signaling the end of their session. "I still don't see the point in all this," she said, turning away, and reaching for a training towel that hung on a hook in the wall. She poured her water bottle over her head, then wiped her face off, and toweled her hair dry.  
  
Corbin walked up next to her, grabbing a towel of his own, and hanging it off his shoulders, while he rolled up the leg of his sweats. There was a bruise already starting to form on his shin, the discolored skin was tender, and he flinched when he touched it. That was from a blow Faye'd landed early on in the fight. He hadn't noticed it at first, but now that the adrenaline rush was leaving his body, it was beginning to throb.  
  
He shoved his pant leg down again roughly, and fished a cigarette out of a pack he'd left on a chair near the door. Lighting it and inhaling with relish.  
  
"I couldn't sleep, now I feel like I could sleep for a week. you really wore me out, isn't that point enough."  
  
Faye grumbled about being able to sleep just fine before he'd woken her up, and stole a cigarette out of his pack.  
  
"Besides, I wanted to see for myself. you know, about those so called "modifications," it was really eating at me. But I have to say, I couldn't be that special, otherwise I wouldn't be so frigging tired. It's good to know that I'm just human after all."  
  
Faye frowned, "That," she said, sweeping her hand toward the practice floor, "didn't prove anything, except that you weren't properly motivated." She lit her stolen smoke off his lighter as well, and inhaled deeply, savoring the flavor before she continued. "And that bit at the very end. talk about quick reaction time. it wasn't exactly super human, but I've never seen anyone, outside of the Barnum and Bailey, do anything like it." She blew the smoke back in his face, a smile now tugging at the corners of her mouth, "so what do you think of that?"  
  
"I think I'd be safer under the big top, than here with you," he said after a moment. He leaned forward, close to her, and she could feel the heat coming off him, and smell the tang of sweat. She felt like she was under a spell. he'd put a spell on her, she swayed forward, closing her eyes. She felt his breath in her face. "I also think I need a shower," her skin prickled in goose bumps at the absence of his heat as he turned and walked away.  
  
"So do you." He shot back over his shoulder, and her eyes flew open.  
  
"What the!" She started to charge after him, then stopped herself. Christ. she had been ready to kiss him again. She needed to get into the bathroom, alright, but not to shower. She was going to puke.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He was on his way to bed after his shower, and Faye was nowhere to be seen. She must have already headed to her room. He closed his eyes. He'd almost done it again. He'd almost let himself... He threw his door open, perhaps a little more violently than necessary. He wouldn't even allow himself to *think* about what he'd almost done.  
  
"You seem to have a lot of anger."  
  
The voice startled him, and he flipped the light on, illuminating his surroundings, and exposing the woman sitting the chair by his window. Irma. God, what did she want? Not... oh, man, he really wasn't in the mood.  
  
She seemed to read his mind, because she shook her head, a queer smile crossing her face. "I just want to talk."  
  
He nodded, and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Shoot."  
  
"I've done something terrible," she said, her eyes now brimming with tears, "and you're the only person I can talk to about it." She rushed over to him, throwing her arms around him, and sobbing into his shoulder. He was stunned. Not sure what else to do, he patted her head.  
  
"It's okay, we went over this. We didn't do anything wrong. Faye and I have no relationship."  
  
Irma pulled away, sitting on her knees in front of the bed, and smiled, wiping her tears. "Funny... if you and Faye have no relationship, then why do you assume that I'm talking about us?"  
  
"I...er..." he was at a loss. "Well, if not us, then... what else?"  
  
Irma sighed. "Faye sent me to return John's ring to him. And when I went to his house, he invited me in," she turned to Corbin, looking him in the eyes, "I used you, I'm sorry, but I think you used me too, and just didn't know it."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"John was hurting and... I wanted to make the pain stop."  
  
Realization finally dawned on Corbin, "so you slept with him?"  
  
Irma nodded. "I don't want you to think I'm a slut, or anything. I don't know, I guess I just felt like we had gotten pretty close while he was being held by Dimitri."  
  
Corbin smiled faintly, "I see... and then morning came, and you weren't what he wanted."  
  
She nodded. Corbin could be really perceptive when he wanted to be.  
  
"So you come home, hurt, rejected and spiteful, hating Faye for having John's heart, and you sleep with me. For what? Revenge?" He was laughing now, "how did you think that would get back at Faye?"  
  
Boy, sometimes he could be pretty perceptive... and sometimes, he could be downright thick. "I guess I just thought that maybe you two had gotten close while John was held captive too."  
  
Corbin lit a cigarette. "Guess again."  
  
"Well?" Irma asked, after a moment.  
  
"Well...?" he echoed.  
  
"I've just told you this horrible thing I did, and now I want some advice."  
  
"Oh, well in that case, try not beating yourself up about this. You were, after all, there to give him his ring back. This was a guy that Faye obviously wasn't in love with, the only person who was hurt by what you did, it would seem, was you." He smile at her, "so stop carrying around that guilt."  
  
She smiled back, actually feeling a little better. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for listening," she whispered in his ear, then got to her feet.  
  
Corbin watched her walk out the door. He had a feeling that things would work out for her.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Faye shoveled her eggs into her mouth, but she didn't taste them.  
  
She had decided that she hated Irma. she wasn't really sure why, since there was no way it could have anything to do with the way the short, attractive, *available* woman talked so easily with Corbin. They had always been friendly with each other, sure, but now they chatted like best friends, like they sheared some sort of secret. It was driving Faye mad.  
  
Okay, well, maybe she didn't hate Irma, she really had no reason to. Even if there was something going on there, which, she assured herself, there wasn't, then it really wouldn't concern her.... except... except... if she closed her eyes, she could still feel Corbin's lips against hers, and the heat of his body... so close, like in the training room.  
  
She shook her head, as if to empty it of such thoughts, and sighed at yet another spoon full of eggs that hung almost at her mouth. She dropped her spoon and let it clatter against her plate, metal meeting glass and playing a jarring tune. She pushed her seat back, smiling to herself as both Corbin and Irma looked her way. She didn't look at either one, though, as she went into the sitting room, and turned on the TV.  
  
She couldn't wait for Jet and Ed to get there, so that they could get focused back on the task at hand... dealing with Eve.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Huh, wonder what her problem is," Corbin said around his cigarette. It wasn't really like Faye to just walk out and leave her breakfast half eaten. He looked at his own empty plate, then back at hers, and with a shrug, dumped the remainder of her eggs and toast onto his, before he continued eating.  
  
He caught the stern look Irma gave him out of the corner of his eye, and turned to her, disarming grin once again plastered to his face. "Wouldn't want it to go to waste, would we?" She ruffled his hair, like he was a misfit kid, and smiled.  
  
"You know," she said, completely off the subject, "I thinks it's time you had a haircut."  
  
Corbin swallowed his mouthful of food with an audible "gulp," and looked at her with what could only be described as pure shock. "What's wrong with my hair?" he patted his own head, as if to reassure himself that his bushy green-tinged locks were still in place.  
  
"Nothing, really, it's just a bit, er, wild." She sat down next to him, "don't you think you'd feel better with a little change?"  
  
He raised one eyebrow, "Whad'ya have in mind?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Faye felt a muscle in her eye twitch when she went back through the kitchen, and Corbin and Irma were both gone. She didn't have long to dwell on it though, because a moment later, Jet and Ed came strolling down the hallway from the hangar.  
  
Faye almost asked them how they'd gotten in without her opening the hangar for them, but then she remembered who she was dealing with here. Edward *was* a famous hacker, was she not?  
  
"Hey, guys," she greeted them, weakly. "Hope you've got good news for me."  
  
Ed smiled, and flipped the computer disk in the air like a coin, before catching it deftly between her thumb and forefinger. "Well, it's news, anyway, and it gives us a better idea of what we're up against." She handed it over to Faye, who, took it gingerly, as if it were made of crystal, and walked back into the sitting room, where her laptop waited on the coffee table. She inserted the disk, and opened it up.  
  
There were several files on the disk, mostly archived syndicate memos, but also, she noticed, a pretty thorough record of Dr. VanHausen's diary entries, pulled off of his computer with great skill. The earliest of these was dated March 4th, 2070, the latest was dated November 5th, 2073... a little over 2 years ago.  
  
"No current stuff?" Faye asked, opening a random entry, and beginning to read.  
  
"Nope, not that I could locate, anyway," Ed replied.  
  
"His diary entries toward the end talk about how he's getting paranoid that he's being watched, and his actions recorded," Jet offered, "so I think he switched over to doing his journal in hard copy. He was afraid of computer hackers.  
  
"Don't know why..." Ed said innocently, but the smile on her face was anything but.  
  
"This is a jumping off point, at least. did you pre-read these all, or just selected ones?"  
  
"Are you kidding me?" Jet asked incredulously, "There's enough reading material there to keep me busy for a week. Ed and I read a few of them, but it barely even scraped the surface."  
  
Ed dropped down on the couch, "You've really got your work cut out for you, Faye," she said. Faye resisted the urge to shove her laptop down the hackers grinning throat.  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
"Of course you do, what?" came Corbin's voice from the door.  
  
Three pairs of eyes looked all at once, and three faces received three similar shocked expressions. Corbin's hair was shaved close on his neck, and by his ears, and was only slightly longer on the top.  
  
"What?" 


	14. fight or flight

He wasn't really sure why he'd let Irma talk him into it. Maybe he was hoping he wouldn't recognize himself when she was done, that he would be able to look into a mirror for once and not feel like he was looking at a familiar face. A familiar one, but not his own. Maybe he was hoping Spike's shadow could be cut away as easily as the hair could. Maybe, like Irma said, it was just time for a change. What ever the reason, though, he wouldn't have done it, if he'd known how his old... how *Spike's* old comrades were going to react to it.  
  
He sighed now, as he looked into the bathroom mirror, and couldn't help but picture the shocked looks on their faces, mouths hanging to the ground, eyes the size of baseballs. He couldn't have felt more self- conscious if a second head had suddenly sprouted up on his shoulders. Faye especially. The look in her eyes... it was like he'd defiled something sacred.  
  
Hell, it wasn't really like he could blame her. Not when he himself felt like he'd defiled something sacred. And it wasn't really much of an improvement. It may have been shorter, but it was no tamer than before, still managing to stick straight up as if it were immune to all laws of physics and nature. Unless, that is, he had it weighed down under a ton of styling gel. . . as he did now. But who had time to spend an hour a day fixing their hair?  
  
He was fighting a losing battle.  
  
He splashed some water on his face, and toweled it dry, scrubbing the terry cloth across his face until it stung, before throwing the towel onto the floor.  
  
With a growl, he wrenched the door open, and headed down the hall to where the four of them had been reading for hours, trying to sift through the 'Good Doctor's' journal. That's why he'd had to go to the bathroom. . . well he hadn't needed to go to the bathroom, he'd just been desperate to do anything to get his circulation going. That, and he couldn't help but notice his companions looking up from their datapads every so often to check on him. As if his hair might magically re-appear if they kept looking. It was starting to get on his nerves.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't know, I don't think it looked too bad," Jet tried to be the voice of reason.  
  
"What do you mean, 'I don't think it looked too bad?'" Faye said, shakily sucking on a cigarette. "Did you see it? I can't believe he would do such a thing! It just feels wrong."  
  
Jet shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. "The kid just can't win with you, can he? What difference does it make to you if he cuts his hair? Listen, I was just as shocked as you, at first, but the fact of the matter is, it's his hair, not Spike's. The sooner you realize that, the better."  
  
Faye blinked. The words stung like a physical slap. It was sort of funny to realize that it was true, that despite the fact that she told herself every second of every day that Corbin was not Spike, she still managed to forget. Well, maybe she didn't exactly *forget* but she didn't always remember either. Why?  
  
Because even though he's not Spike, he still feels right, she answered herself. He fits.  
  
She bit her lip, hating that statement, hating that it was true. He'd waltzed onto her ship, he'd waltzed into their lives, and proceeded to become part of the action without so much as missing a beat. And she hated him for it, because she was beginning to suspect. . .  
  
She left the thought dangling there, broken off by the sudden entrance of Corbin himself. He looked around, noticing the glare Faye shot in his direction, but refusing to acknowledge it with so much as an eye twitch. He did it just to annoy her, and it worked. Always had.  
  
The rest of her thought still hung in the air, though, unfinished, but almost tangible. She wasn't ready to wrap her mind around it quite yet, but it went something like this. . . she didn't hate him at all.  
  
"So, where's Ed?"  
  
"Catching a few Z's in Faye's room, she was up pretty late last night," Jet answered.  
  
Corbin nodded, half smile on his face, and stretched his arms over his head in a manner that said "I can relate," more clearly than any verbalization, and Faye had to smile. They had worn themselves out pretty good last night.  
  
  
  
  
  
'. . . I have to say, I didn't expect success so soon. When I first started working on the Eden project four months ago, I thought it would be years before my research reached the stages of practical testing, but I was very wrong. The state of the art technology the syndicate supplies has really cut down on the time. . . so much so, that our first 'child' was born today, though she isn't really much of a child, since all subjects are accelerated to a state of maturity before they are brought to life, so to speak.  
  
'I call her Lillith, and she is the future. She is resistant to all forms of disease, and has a dizzying I.Q. and thanks to an information download process that I appropriated from another syndicate project, she has a head full of facts. . . The first thing she did upon drawing breath was to ask me a question about Einstein's theory of relativity.  
  
'I'm so excited, and I have a feeling that my discoveries will change the world'- March 16, 2070  
  
'. . . Lillith is progressing wonderfully, she's actually taking on the role of an assistant to me, helping me when I work late in the lab, and giving me ideas. It's terrific working with her. She's so kind and caring, and it's just good to know that after dealing with those syndicate officials, I can come back to the lab and be with her. She always calms me down. . .' - December 2, 2070  
  
'. . . I have broken my code of ethics today, and I don't even care! Lillith is so wonderful, I know I'm in love with her, and that she loves me too, and that makes it all worth it, doesn't it?  
  
'There's no way that Dimitri, the man who runs this facility, will let us leave, so we're going to have to run away, but we'll at least be together. We will be leaving in a week, and starting a new life.  
  
'I can't wait to marry her.'- May 29, 2071  
  
'We were so close. . . so close.  
  
'They showed up today, to tell me that my project was put on a back burner, and that they had something special for me to work on in the meantime. They said that given my area of expertise, I'd be perfect for the job.  
  
'It's was just an excuse, though. the truth is that they are afraid of my work!  
  
'I tried to reason with them, but they just wouldn't listen. . . they confiscated everything. EVERYTHING! Even Lillith. To them she is just another piece of research, just another lab rat. . . it makes me sick to think what they're doing to her. . . in a cage somewhere, when she should be in my arms right now, far away from this place. I don't know what I'm going to do. . .' -June 1, 2071  
  
'She's growing. I've hidden her away in a locked room, where no one will find her. No one will even bother looking. I put her in the room that they kept Lillith in, but she's gone now. . . long gone. . . oh my darling, if only you could see our daughter, she is beautiful.  
  
'She will help us get our revenge. She will help bring down those who hurt us. She is not like you, my darling, she is different. She is strong. Strong enough to make them pay for what they did to you. . . I can still see your body, the way that I found you. Dissected like a frog. They were afraid of you, my Lillith, that's why they pulled the plug on our project. Dumb, insecure little mortals, afraid of God, so they have to destroy Eden. But the time will come when they all bow before my creations.  
  
'I know it can't bring you back, but I will have my vengeance on the human race.  
  
'Our daughter is but the beginning of my plans. . .' February 15, 2072  
  
  
  
Corbin put down the datapad, rubbed his eyes, and re-read the last passage. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The doctor had obviously gone insane. And the daughter he mentioned could be none other than Eve. Finally, it looked like they were getting somewhere.  
  
"Hey, guys," he said, his voice grittier than usual against his parched throat, "have either of you gotten to February 2072 yet?"  
  
Jet mumbled an "umf", to indicate a negative, and Faye shook her head and yawned.  
  
"Well, then, you might want skip ahead a little bit. He mentions a 'daughter' in one of these entries, probably Eve." He gave them a minute to scroll down the page to the proper passages, before continuing. "Do you see it? February 15, he's gone nutty!"  
  
"Hmm. . ." Faye said, half a minute later.  
  
"What?" Corbin asked. He wasn't sure he liked her tone.  
  
"You might want to read a little further on."  
  
  
  
'. . . those syndicate elders, such fools! Did they really think that they could stop progress, that they could stop me from doing God's work? I AM GOD'S HANDS! And it is time for a cleansing. The revolution is upon us.  
  
'I've been borrowing equipment, and I've been working on my troops. My creations will rule the world.  
  
'It won't be long now, I have my queen, but I'm still working on a mate, someone who will be her equal, not like the drones I've created in the sub- standard lab I set up for myself away from prying syndicate eyes... the subjects are showing great progress. Stupid, stupid elders... did you think I wouldn't find a way to continue my work? It was tricky though, the genetic structure couldn't be noticeably different from that of the primary donor. . . initially, that is. I think I have that worked out now, though. Soon, I will have my revenge, and then. . . the dawning of a new age is upon us.'- November 22, 2072  
  
November 22, 2072. . . roughly 2 months before Corbin's 'birth'.  
  
He thought his throat was dry before. He heaved himself out of the armchair, and went into the kitchen without saying another word. He pulled a cup out of the cupboard and slammed it onto the counter.  
  
"What's wrong?" Faye. Wasn't it pretty fucking obvious?  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, gruffly, not really inviting an answer. He opened another cupboard, and slammed it shut again almost immediately. "Don't you have any alcohol?" he closed his eyes, and leaned his hands on the counter. He would not be overwhelmed... he would not. He just wouldn't think about it.  
  
He stiffened when he felt Faye pressed against his back, and opened his eyes wide in shock. She was standing on her tip-toes, and reaching over his shoulder to open the cupboard. He cheek brushed his as she stretched further, and he tried to ignore the heat of her body, but her nearness was discomforting. He inhaled sharply, as she lunged forward slightly, causing his hip to dig into the counter, he frowned, what was she playing at?  
  
He realized soon enough, when she pushed aside a bag of flour, and grabbed the bottle behind it, pulling it down, and filling his glass without a word. He slipped his hand around it, but she pulled it from his nerveless fingers, downing it herself, before placing it back on the counter, and re- filling it. Corbin shuddered as she pulled away from him, it felt like she was pulling some part of himself along with her, leaving him hollow.  
  
He smirked, nothing better to fill his void than bourbon and cigarette smoke. He drew a cigarette out of his pack, and lit it, welcoming the black smoke into his lungs, and slamming back his glass before turning to face Faye.  
  
She had retreated to the kitchen table, and was busy pulling comfort from a tube, just like him.  
  
"He's fucking crazy," he answered abruptly.  
  
Faye blinked, and looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, but we'd sort of guessed that already."  
  
"He's planning a revolution, with me at the fucking head! The guys not just crazy, he's stupid." He laughed, humorlessly, the harsh sounds bouncing off the walls, reverberating back into his ears. "I can't believe this."  
  
"He's going to have to be stopped," Jet's voice from the doorway. How long had he been standing there?  
  
"Why? He can't do anything without me, and he can't make another 'mate' for his little girl now that the lab's been trashed. He's harmless."  
  
Jet shook his head, "you know that isn't true. He has his own lab. . . not quite the facility he had in Lansing-Medcalf, but he said himself, it was good enough for him to make his 'troops' in. He's had years to work at this. . . who knows how many there are. Besides, how many people would jump at the chance to fund his research? I think even Kataki would be drooling at the prospect of Dr. VanHausen on the payroll. Besides, there's always Eve, she'll pursue you relentlessly as long as Dominic lives. You fancy a life of running?"  
  
A flash. Shock in his joints as his feet pounded the pavement, the heavy reassurance of a gun in his hand. He fired off two shots, then threw himself behind a parked car. He could see a silver haired man in the side mirror of the car in front of him, and was overcome byt the urge to run. This was life. But not his life.  
  
Corbin bit his lip. Spike was the runner, not him. He would face this thing head on. 


	15. outside

She was exhausted. Floating on a sea of data, scanning with her mind. She'd been at this for hours, and the mental strain had almost become too much. It was a new experience for her, not being able to access the information she needed. She'd begun to feel like she was omniscient as long as she was jacked in. no data was beyond her reach. Until now.  
  
"It's no use," she said, aware, despite the fact that she could neither hear nor see the physical world, that someone had just walked through the door. She didn't know who it was, but it didn't really matter, they were all there. Everyone back on the Bebop. it felt just like old times.  
  
She slid the visor from her head with one hand, while the other absently stroked the fur of the Welsh Corgi that had been by her side the whole time, and found a very strained looking Faye. She hadn't even changed her clothes, still wearing the same blue jeans and burgundy sweater she'd worn the day before. Ed bit her lip, sorry she didn't have better news to share with her friend, but Faye just smiled absently, and slipped down beside the girl.  
  
"No big deal, sort of figured it was a waste of time, anyway." She pulled a cigarette out of her back pocket, and started to light up, but a quick search of her other four pockets revealed that she'd once again forgotten her lighter... oh well, she didn't really need a cigarette anyway, she thought as she stared longingly at the stick of paper and tobacco, before hurling it away.  
  
"Oh," was all Ed could manage by way of a reply.  
  
"You said yourself, finding just what you found was exhausting, finding his lab was a long shot." She smiled at Ed's frown. "not that I doubt your ability, but considering the time constraints and all."  
  
Ed nodded, pride effectively smoothed, "so why bother?"  
  
"Because it would have made things so much easier."  
  
"Easier? What's the plan now?"  
  
Faye sighed, "Wait for that moron to act predictably, then follow him." Her face was dark as she whispered the words, "different, but the same."  
  
  
  
  
  
He wanted outside, desperately. The feeling of titanium and steel surrounding him on all sides seemed suddenly crushing. He felt like he was in a tin can. All he wanted to do was step outside. just for a moment, just for the time it took to suck the spark out of a cigarette. He wanted to feel the wind against his skin.  
  
Last night he'd dreamt again of the barren landscape, and the cliff. He'd dreamt again that he was being called by Eve, called for Father, called to war. He thought he was going to be sick.  
  
He looked at his hands, clasped together on the table in front of him. Fingers laced, while a cigarette smoldered, wedged between them.  
  
And sighed.  
  
He'd always been one to avoid responsibility, when at all possible, and now. Now it appeared to be unavoidable. That was probably more crushing than the 20 tons of spaceship wrapped around him. And he wondered how long he'd known this day was coming, how long he'd known, without knowing. Probably all of his short life. It had been ingrained in his mind, that's what had caused the dreams.  
  
He shuddered again, at the memory of Eve's voice inside his mind.  
  
He was not just Subject 26 any longer. He had a name. He was his own person. He would not let anyone change that, not Eve, not Father, not even an army of modified humans.  
  
Corbin stood up from the table, taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it into the ashtray.  
  
They'd decided to go after him. The three of them, he, Jet and Faye, with Irma flying drop-off and pick-up, and Ed supporting them from the ship. The three of them, against an army. But Father had proved impossible to trace. Not even the Master Hacker, Radical Edward, could manage to pry his whereabouts out of the mass of electrical impulses that was her domain.  
  
They couldn't fight him, if they couldn't find him.  
  
Of course, there was always the other option...  
  
He smiled, looks like he was going outside after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
She sat up, brushing the flame red hair from her eyes with the back of her white hand, and glanced at the clock. 4:23 am. A smile tugged at the corners of her ruby lips, and she parted them, indulging herself in a laugh. The time had finally come. He was giving him self up.. or perhaps it would be better to say 'giving himself over,' rededicating himself, and ultimately, realizing his potential. But that didn't matter, what mattered was that he was coming to her. She could feel it.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Like I said, it was just a matter of time before he did the predictable thing, and charged off on his own... for Christ's sake, when is he going to learn..." Faye continued under her breath, and through gritted teeth for a few more lines, as she kicked her zip-craft into high gear.  
  
"Come on Faye, give the guy a break, he's been under some stress," came Jett's voice across the com.  
  
"Believe me, if we get out of this one alive, I plan on giving him a break!"  
  
"But Faye," Ed cut in, "weren't you expecting this?"  
  
"Doesn't mean I can't be pissed about it!" She pushed the accelerator all the way in, hearing her engines groan in protest, before resigning themselves to their burden. Speed seemed to be the only thing that cooled her raging temper, so Jet said nothing, just followed her trail, hoping she didn't do anything stupid, knowing that she would, and worrying more about her than he ever had for either of his poofy haired companions.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yeah. I know it's short, I'm sorry, I seemed to have written myself into a corner, and had a little trouble backing out of it, but the ink is once again flowing. Enjoy! 


	16. rain

She felt the rain beat against her head, and the wind mat her long, red hair, but she was oblivious to any discomfort the weather may have caused. She never got sick, anyway. Besides, if she went inside, she might not see him when he came. And she knew he would come.  
  
Back here, back to the place where it all began.  
  
She could feel him drawing nearer, her hunter's sixth sense, perhaps, or maybe it had something to do with her... "heritage." He would be here soon.  
  
And the downpour continued.  
  
She turned to look at the building behind her, cutting an ominous figure, in an already threatening sky. It was amazing how quickly it had been re-built... really, if you didn't know better, you'd say there was no way that a scant few months ago, there had been a space ship sitting in 27th story window, but that's the way construction wen these days. "Where it all began..."  
  
  
  
  
  
They stopped for fuel in shifts.  
  
They couldn't afford to stop tailing Corbin for even a second, or they risked loosing the signal on the tracker among all the other signals that floated through space. So they had to take turns re-fuelling, one stopping, while the other continued ahead, leaving a trail of proverbial breadcrumbs for the other to follow until they caught up. Then it was time to trade positions.  
  
This time it was Jet's turn to re-fuel.  
  
He sighed, as he watched the price on the fuel-meter rise. This little trip was getting pretty fucking expensive, and his Hammerhead got shitty gas mileage. If he'd had any idea they were going to need to travel half way across the solar system, he might have brought the Bebop, instead. sure the mileage was still bad, but at least the tank was considerably bigger. And not just the tank, he sighed, wearily. If he'd thought to bring the Bebop, then he might have had the chance to get a little sleep, ships like the Hammerhead didn't exactly come with reclining bucket seats. They just weren't designed for long distance flying.  
  
His only comfort was that, by Faye's constant low-key whining over the radio, he knew that she was in a bit of discomfort as well.  
  
This made him smile a little, too. Three years ago, she would have been used to the cramped confines of her Red-tail... now success had made her soft.  
  
As if she knew what he was thinking, Jet's radio crackled to life, with Faye's voice on the other end.  
  
"For Christ's sake, Jet, would you hurry the hell up? I need for you to catch up so I can pull over and fucking STRETCH!"  
  
"Too bad the years didn't soften your disposition as well," he muttered to himself.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Nothing," he grumbled in reply.  
  
"That's what I thought..." threatening, and then a change, subtle, but there, none the less. The confidence drained from her voice, to be replaced with bravado, and Jet was sure that she was attempting to hide any hint of fear. "Hurry up, please, two sensors are better than one, and we can't loose him. The sooner we get this thing wrapped up, the sooner we can all go back to our normal lives."  
  
The radio cut out, and Jet looked at it, a little puzzled. He was pretty sure he'd never quite get that girl. Why couldn't she just admit that she was worried sick about Corbin? Like it wasn't obvious anyway... did she still see Spike when she looked at him? Was the wound Spike's rejection gave her still so fresh that seeing Corbin was like twisting the knife?  
  
Bah! Just trying to understand it made his head hurt. Women were a puzzle in general, but they were all essentially the same species as he was, and could be understood with no more difficulty than, say, your average 10,000 piece beauty. Faye was like the lovechild of a Rubik's cube, and... oh, I don't know, a proof of the Euler four-square identity.  
  
I mean, sure, it had been difficult for all of them, at first. A real adjustment. It was hard to see someone else wearing that face, same voice, same walk, same intensity behind the eyes, even some of the same memories... but not really the same person. He'd kept expecting him to react to things like Spike might have, but Corbin had yet to kick the computer into submission, or blow up a building. ..okay, Lansing-Medcalf, but that was justified, even in Jet's old eyes. So what if he looked like Spike, he wasn't, and Jet had learned to accept it, and appreciate Corbin for what he was.  
  
And then, of course, he had to go and do something bone-headed like this to highlight all of his similarities to Spike. It was damn frustrating...  
  
Okay, so maybe he could understand Faye's attitude, Spike had shared more with his clone than just DNA, after all. Maybe Faye was partially worried that by accepting Corbin, it would be like replacing Spike. Children of divorce had this problem all the time, when their primary parent wanted to re-marry. And maybe it was also a partial fear that Corbin would reject her as Spike had... that perhaps he still carried a flame in his heart for another woman, even after death and resurrection.  
  
Jet sighed, and shut off the pump.  
  
What was he doing? He should know better than to psychoanalyze Faye by now. The woman defied reason.  
  
  
  
  
  
The skies were clear over Mars, but he could tell that it had been raining recently. Water still clung to the blades of grass in the park in the shadow of the skyscraper, and the ground was spongy, having soaked up all the precious moisture that fell from the sky. His boots sunk slightly into this boggy earth, as he made his way across the open field where he and Faye had faced off against Dimitri for the first time.  
  
Of course it would all come back to this. The place of his creation. The place where VanHaussen did his research, and his experimentation. The shudder that wracked Corbin's body had little to do with the damp chill that still hung in the air. Even now that he was free, this place still brought a dread into his heart, the ghost of his captivity.  
  
And he wondered again how he had escaped, and why his memories of the time before his tentative freedom were almost as muddled as the ones he carried of Spike. It made no sense... but he supposed he was about to find the answers.  
  
Eve was here, and she'd take him where he needed to go. She'd take him to Father.  
  
His creator... "Father"... he must have despised this place almost as much as Corbin did himself. The thought that they had anything in common left a sour taste in Corbin's mouth. There was a difference. Corbin never asked for any of it.  
  
"Looking for someone?"  
  
The voice crept underneath his skin, between his ribs, and wrapped icy fingers around his heart to give it a little squeeze. He gulped, spinning around to face Eve. He hadn't really seen her since that morning she'd showed up in his hotel room, having been drugged the time she met up with them outside that nightclub, and he found that he was unprepared for her. For one thing, he forgot how absolutely stunning she was, hair flying in the breeze behind her like a banner, skin pale as the moon, eyes like the deepest, bluest ocean. But cold. So cold. He'd almost forgotten that too, how absolutely chilling her presence could be.  
  
"Well?" she asked, when he allowed the silence to stretch too long.  
  
Instantly, he was himself again, calm, reassured, and totally confident. He crossed his arms over his chest, and slouched down, his posture conveying the message "I'm not intimidated," loud and clear, while a lazy grin played on his face.  
  
"You know who I'm looking for, Eve."  
  
She matched his smile with a predatory one of her own, "may I ask what brought about this change of heart?"  
  
"I..."  
  
It's funny, but Corbin had never considered the possibility that they would question his decision to join them. He should have, he realized, but it just never occurred to him that after they'd gone through so much trouble to capture him, they'd wonder at their good fortune. Better to just accept the existence of miracles, in Corbin's mind. But by the look on her face, Eve wasn't a believer, so Corbin took a deep breath, and said the first thing that came into his mind.  
  
"Faye... we just don't get along. Look, I figure that at least you want me for me, not for my face." There was some measure of truth to that, and as he felt the words stick in his throat, he realized just how much it bothered him. Okay, maybe not so much Jet and Ed... yeah, they still missed Spike, and they probably transferred some of the affection that they had for their bushy haired comrade to him, but he still felt like they cared about *him*. Faye, it was Faye who hated him for the skin he was in.  
  
Eve nodded, satisfied with his explanation. Or maybe she wasn't, but either way, she was supposed to take him back to Father, so what did it matter?  
  
"Well, let's go?"  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jet, he's moving again," Faye said impatiently.  
  
Jet had insisted on stopping to stretch, and Faye was still waiting for him to catch up. She'd been in orbit around Mars for almost an hour now, and was beginning to wonder what was going on. Of course, Ed had been able to pinpoint his location... that building. Faye had been relieved when the red blip on her scanner had began to move again, thoughts of returning to that place... Faye shivered at the memory of her imprisonment, and her creepy captor, but there was another memory that made her freeze. She remembered the room, lined with a thousand Spikes, she remembered how she'd felt herself shatter into a million pieces. She remembered how she had numbly dragged one of the stasis chambers back to her ship, where the strength to do that had come from... she didn't know. She remembered, she still had nightmares about that day.  
  
Yes, she was very happy when Corbin was on the move again, and anxious to get going.  
  
"Jet?"  
  
"Yeah, go ahead, I'll catch up."  
  
"Don't worry, Corbin, we're with you," she whispered.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Really sorry about the delay. I kept thinking I was going to get a weekend to work on this, and it never happened, so I finally just decided to buckle down, and work on it whenever I could (usually in spans of 10 minutes at a time) hope it's not too choppy.  
  
Sorry again. 


	17. garden gate

He pulled back on the stick, bringing the swordfish II out of a deep dive at the last possible moment before shooting forward, accelerating into a hairpin turn. The ship he followed slipped out of sight around a corner, and his heart, which had been pounding in his ears, all but stopped. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Then up over a ridge and down again, into an even deeper canyon, and the rhythm began again, painful, and jarring, as Eve's ship once again came into sight.  
  
They'd been speeding along like this, skimming the surface of the planet, navigating narrow fissures in the earth, diving, wheeling, spinning, for over an hour now... ever since they entered earth's atmosphere, and despite the flying skills that seemed to almost radiate from a forgotten part of his mind, and channel themselves through his body to his fingertips, arms, legs, toes, he wondered that he managed to keep up with her.  
  
"Jesus, It's almost like she wants to loose me," he muttered. The hard flying bothered him, but what really bothered him was the nagging suspicion that he was being followed. He'd gotten the feeling just after he and Eve had left the orbit of Venus, and it had only intensified.  
  
Complete rubbish, of course, he didn't know a single pilot who could follow them where they went, and anyone who tried would have their relatives scraping them off a canyon wall.  
  
He didn't know why, but that thought caused a sudden tightening in his chest.  
  
He flew on.  
  
And a few miles behind him, discreetly out of sight, Faye flew as well. She did better in this maze than Corbin might have guessed, she might not have had much opportunity lately to fly her little zip craft but she hadn't exactly let herself get out of practice, either, and while the Swordfish II was in many ways far superior to the Redtail, it wasn't as well designed for this sort of tight maneuvering. Besides, she had one more thing going for her: Ed, who was even now feeding topographical information, courtesy of Ed's fathers own Earth mapping project, into the Redtail's computers. And while the information wasn't 100%, it had proved pretty damn accurate so far.  
  
Even so, the concentration had still caused the sweat to bead up on her brow. At these speeds, in these sort of cramped quarters, the slightest mistake could spell doom. And she wondered again what the hell she was doing. Was this really all worth it?  
  
What was Corbin to her, anyway?  
  
A friend. The answer ricocheted off the walls of her mind. A comrade. You don' t deserts a comrade.  
  
So she worried her bottom lip raw, and flashed past the landscape too fast to even see where she was going, navigating by the maps Ed supplied, the signal from the homing device and blind intuition. She gripped the stick of her craft so tightly now her fingers had become numb, and she saw her own funeral around every corner.  
  
But before she could crash, the red dot that was Corbin began to slow its forward movement, and Faye did like wise, bringing her ship down just behind a rise, and exiting onto the barren landscape. Red canyon walls... outside of her ship, it reminded her of nothing so much as the Arizona desert. Only more so. Constant bombardment by meteorites had cut huge scars into the landscape. Earthquakes caused by impact had done the rest. Barren, yes, but as she crested the rise, she inhaled sharply at the sight before her. It was a basin, which looked like it may have been made by one particularly large impact, but inside the bowl was a walled garden, filled with trees, flowers, birds... it's lushness contrasting sharply with the rest of the world. Unexpected, and yet somehow familiar, as if she'd seen it before. in a dream perhaps. or maybe not as though she'd actually seen it, just knew what it should look like.  
  
And suddenly she knew where she'd heard of this garden. In a flash she remembered squirming in her wooden seat, wedged next to a father and mother who's faces she couldn't really remember, just the impression of love and support, and acceptance, and their actual features kept changing, and shifting, but she knew it was them. And she was listening to a man, and he was talking about a garden, more beautiful than any other. A garden where nothing dies, and nothing grows old. A garden of perfection. Eden.  
  
And at the garden's center, stood a tower. Father's secret lab. Death among even these timeless roses. Father was trying to re-create the world in his image. Father wanted to be god.  
  
"Jet, hurry your ass up, huh? You've got to see this."  
  
"Forget it," came the indignant answer over the radio, "I'm going as fast as I can... you know the hammerhead isn't the best for tight steering. And it's not like I can just come in from above, they'll see me for sure... no, I have to navigate through this endless maze of..."  
  
"Stop whining, and get here," Faye cut him off playfully, then became serious, "I don't think we can wait much longer, and I don't think I can do this without you."  
  
"Sure... I'm on my way."  
  
She looked again to the ivory tower, and shuddered. The whole thing just felt... unnatural, and gazing upon it only caused chills to run rampant down her spine. Hurriedly, she dragged her eyes down into the garden, and up over it's wall finally coming to rest on the bright red spot that gave Corbin away even at this distance.  
  
She squinted, straining her eyes, but Eve and Corbin were simply too far away to be clearly seen. Reluctantly, she left her vantage point, and skidded back down the hill to her craft. She leaned into the open cockpit, and began throwing around garbage, reaching under seats, and opening glove compartments searching for her field glasses.  
  
Faye straightened back up, a curse on her lips. She was never the most organized of women, but she was always able to find what she needed. until she needed it that is. It would figure. After allowing herself a moment to vent her frustration in nice four letter words, which bounced off the canyon walls, she tried again, looking a little more methodically this time, and found them in short order, dangling behind her seat as they hung from the headrest.  
  
She allowed herself no time to revel in her success, however, and scurried back up the hill, pausing just before she reached the top, and crawling the last few feet army style. As the spot of red once again came into view, she put her field glasses to her eyes, and brought the scene into focus.  
  
Corbin was dressed all in black, and Faye had to wonder how he managed to look so cool in all this heat. But then, Eve seemed to pull it off pretty well too, and Faye felt keenly the dust that had settled into her hair, and clung to her sweat-dampened skin. She'd never felt more that she needed a shower.  
  
She held her breath instinctively, and pressed herself even further into the rock, as Eve's eyes turned in her direction. She was too far away to be seen, surely. And yet, suddenly, she felt like she was highlighted in neon. She counted a few breathless seconds, before Eve finally turned back to Corbin, her lips moving rapidly.  
  
It was times like this Faye was really sorry she'd never learned to read lips.  
  
What ever it was Eve said, it had Corbin nodding reluctantly, and following her to the Garden gates. hurdle number one, as Faye had come to think of them. The rest of their walk was in silence. Faye following their progress from the gates, over a small bridge, lost them behind a clump of trees, but found them again, as they went around the other side, and eventually found their way to the tower.  
  
There was no door that Faye could see, but she knew it was there, probably keyed into Eve's specific heat signature, or Genetic code, or some thing like that, and sure enough, a section of the wall slid out and open as the duo approached. They entered, Corbin first, and Eve bringing up the rear. The smile on her face froze Faye's blood in her veins.  
  
She was still sitting there, binoculars in hand, watching the blank section of wall (hurdle number two) 20 minutes later, when Jet showed up.  
  
She heard the hammerhead approach, and touch down in a not-so-soft landing, and followed Jet's progress with her ears as he stumbled out of the driver's seat of his car, rubbing his numb tail bone, and grumbling low in his throat, before trudging up the hillside in thick, heavy footfalls. Faye, without a word or a glance passed the binoculars to him, and nodded at the tower, before biting her lip, and narrowing her eyes thoughtfully.  
  
The gate and the garden would be difficult, the whole area probably under heavy surveillance, and the door was damn near impossible. of course they did have Ed on their side, and she had that uncanny ability to make Swiss Cheese of any security system she saw fit. She might have had trouble finding info on Van Haussen, but now that they had him, the hacker would surely be able to deal with the security.  
  
What really bothered her were the other hurdles, the ones she couldn't see yet. And the one she could. the hurdle that called herself Eve. 


	18. firearms make me sentimental

First off, I'd like to thank everyone who is still following this story. . . and apologize too, for taking so damned long to finish it. Let's just say I've had other business to attend to. It's always a pain when real life rears its ugly head and forces you to abandon your fantasies. This is a really short chapter, and I can already hear people saying "I've been waiting for this?" but I also wanted to take my first opportunity to assure everyone that this fic was getting finished, come hell or high water. . . anyway, without further ado, the next installment of Gene Cocktail:  
  
She was leaning into her zipcraft again, but this time, her hands knew exactly where to go, exactly where to find what she was seeking. This wasn't the sort of thing one got careless with, and misplaced, after all. This was important.  
  
She grunted slightly at the weight, and Jet, who'd been watching her thoughtfully, now frowned when he saw what she pulled out of the ship. It was a small black box, only about six inches long, and maybe half again as wide, but as she flipped the top open, the sides fell out to the sides, revealing an interesting assortment of weapons, all laid out neatly, strapped into the red velvet that lined the box. It held more than one might think.  
  
Not Jet, of course, Jet had known exactly what to think. He'd become quite familiar with the box, and all of its contents during the tenure of their partnership. Guns, knives, grenades, extra clips, an empty space where her automags would be strapped (if they ever left her side), her old glock (the girl just couldn't throw anything away), a putty looking substance that Jet suspected was c4, and, of course, Spikes old Jericho.  
  
The first time he'd seen it in the case, Jet had been a little shocked. He remembered looking at Faye, her face blushing slightly at her own sentimentality, and cocking his eyebrow in an unspoken question. She'd shrugged and avoided his eyes, but he could see how the weapon had been meticulously, even, he dared say, lovingly cleaned. It practically gleamed, certainly in much better shape than Spike had ever cared to keep it in, and much better than the last time he'd seen it, in an evidence bag in police lock up, the handle caked in dried blood, and rusty brown. He'd pictured her leaned over it, scrubbing, fighting the tears out of her eyes.  
  
It had made since, of course. If he had taken the Swordfish into the hangar, and lovingly put it back together, tuned it up, buffed it out, gave it a nice new coat of shiny red paint, then it seemed natural for Faye to want to give the same sort of care to his gun. The same sort of care they wanted to give to their friend. Clean him up, put him back together, slap on some new paint. . . good as new, eh, Spikey boy? But of course, that was impossible.  
  
He also knew how he felt working on the Swordfish II, and seeing it every day. He'd taken to avoiding the hangar.  
  
The first time he'd seen the Jericho in Faye's gun case, he'd patted her reassuringly, and then they'd walked into a building, wreaked havoc on all inside, and walked back out again with a million Wulong bounty, and three more corpses on their conscience. He'd since come to regard the case as a sign of a tough battle ahead. He didn't like seeing it now.  
  
He watched as she took a few of the clips, a few of the grenades, and a long knife, which she shoved in her boot. She was about to close the case again, but her hand hesitated, hovering over the soft velvet. She chewed her lip, and seemed to be debating something.  
  
Part of him was shocked when she dipped her hand down, and tugged Spike's gun from its restraints, and another part of him had been expecting it all along, had even been eagerly awaiting it. Just as with the Swordfish II, it was obvious there was only one person in the world who had the right to wield that gun, the gun Faye was tucking into the back of her pants. She closed the box up, folding up the sides, and then flipping down the top, securing the latch with a *click*.  
  
"ready to go then?" Jet asked, and she only nodded in return, slipping the box into place just underneath the seat of the Redatil.  
  
"Ready," she echoed.  
  
Neither said a word about the gun, but they both knew what it meant. She had accepted Corbin. Perhaps she still had a lingering resentment toward him for all he wasn't, but when push came to shove, she was willing to face any peril for him. Again. Just as she would have for Jet. Just as she would have for Ed. No, he wasn't Spike, but he was one of them, and that was for damned sure. 


	19. behind the wall

The tension was almost tangible, as Faye sat, crouched against the wall of the Van Hausen complex, Jet just to her right, breathing heavily in anticipation. Faye was doing just the opposite, holding her breath in unconscious fear of discovery, and found shortly that she was getting dizzy.  
  
She forced her breath to come more evenly. Inhale. Exhale. . . calmly now. No need to get worked up yet.  
  
"There'll be too much interference for you to get a signal in once we're inside," she said, finally, breaking the silence.  
  
"I know," was Ed's reply. She sounded so tense, Faye noted, so grown up. For a moment, Faye felt incredibly old, remembering the light, carefree tones of the boneless preteen that used to come to her over her communicator. Ed sounded almost. . . responsible now. Almost an adult.  
  
Faye was struck by the urge to tell the girl how very important she was. "You'd better get us a building schematic before we go in, then. Can you get us some satellite photos, while you're at it?" Faye said instead.  
  
Ed knew all that stuff anyway. They were comrades, after all.  
  
"Sure thing," there was ten seconds of hesitation, then, "there you go, both of you now have the whole layout stored in your communicators."  
  
A brief flip, and a push of a button confirmed this.  
  
"Good. . . how much longer before they realize their surveillance equipment is out?"  
  
"Ten minutes more, maybe."  
  
"Let's get in there," came Jet's gruff voice. Standing around outside was obviously making him nervous, because he was starting to fidget, and he'd just lit a new cigarette off the dying remains of it's predecessor. Jet wasn't usually a chain smoker.  
  
"I couldn't agree more." Faye intoned. "Ready," this directed to Ed.  
  
"Set," came the reply.  
  
"Five," came Faye's voice, silky, and low.  
  
"Four," Jet breathed.  
  
"Three," Ed's voice, barely audible over the static.  
  
The unmistakable bark that had to have been Ein.  
  
Each of them heard the 'one' in their heads. That had been Spike's line.  
  
Ed opened the door, and Faye and jet slipped in, separating immediately and wordlessly. This was all part of the plan, after all. Cover more ground. Get in and out faster. And neither one thought about what would happen if they got themselves into a situation that they couldn't get out of by themselves. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't, or they were both dead.  
  
Faye took the path to the right, down a nondescript hallway, and watched her progress on the communicator. Ed., that clever little girl, had managed to upload a program that also automatically pinpointed her location, and traced the path she'd taken from the exit.  
  
Good, that would make getting back out again easier. . . and it was a good thing to, because after wandering for ten minutes, everything was starting to look like everything else. Exam room here, Research lab there, specimens. Argh!  
  
She was trying to work her way to a huge room three floors down, an area that was calling to her for some unknown reason. She followed, of course, she'd learned to trust her hunches. Still. . . she couldn't help but feel that all she was finding was a whole lot of nothing.  
  
God, she hoped Jet was doing better.  
  
Jet opened a door onto another dead end. Just a broom closet.  
  
At present, Jet was very interested in finding a flight of stairs. Faye, he knew, would head down, so it made sense for him to devote his search to the upper floors. Unfortunately, he was having trouble finding a way up. The elevators were, of course, out of the question. With the security this place had, they'd know the second one was activated.  
  
For that matter, the stairs weren't exactly risk free. Things like stairwells were all too often fraught with dangers like security cameras. And occasionally guards. But at least he wouldn't be a sitting duck in a stairwell. Too bad he couldn't find one.  
  
Of course, he mused, he could always just check the map Ed had provided. It would certainly make things easier.  
  
He sighed at his stupidity, and reached into his pocket to retrieve the communicator, flicking it open with one deft movement of his wrist.  
  
A small red dot indicated himself, or so he presumed. Must use global positioning, Jet assumed, and wondered why the satellite signal wasn't getting interference when Ed couldn't get through to them. Must be Faye's cheep equipment. . . still. . . why hadn't Ed just hacked into the satellite, and used it to send her signal into the fortress they were now searching.  
  
Unless the satellite was getting interference. . . that was it, it had to be! Ed couldn't use the satellite, so. . . so. . .  
  
So the tracking was totally useless.  
  
Okay, but the map was still good, at least. He could still use it to find his way, as long as he could pinpoint his current position. Alright, he was in a hallway, with a broom closet on his left, a computer lab on his right and an empty room, about 21x20 ten feet back.  
  
He scanned the map until he found a likely looking set of rooms. If he was right the stairs should be just around the corner, and to the left.  
  
He proceeded on, until he was standing in front of the door that he hoped let to the stairs, and cracked it open slightly.  
  
A quick peek revealed that it was, indeed the stairs, and not only that, but there were no visible cameras. Could his luck get any better?  
  
He was feeling quite proud of himself when a thought occurred to him.  
  
"I hope Faye realized the GPS was on the fritz," he muttered.  
  
"Oh for crying out loud!" Faye finally yelled, before hurling her communicator into a wall, and smashing it to bits. She regretted it the instant she saw what she'd done. Damn her temper. . . it was going to get her killed some day. Maybe this was it.  
  
"Smooth Faye," she chided herself out loud, then groaned. Now she'd never be able to find the room she was looking for, let alone the way back out again afterward.  
  
She closed her eyes, and slowly, a smile spread across her face. Yes, why not. After all, her instincts had never lead her astray before. At least not very far astray, she assured herself. Then she took off down the hall.  
  
Well. . . once again, a short chapter. . . sorry, I know where the story is going, just not quite how it's getting there yet. Meanwhile, I don't want everyone waiting to know what's up. Besides, I thought you guys could use a little plot. 


	20. open the door

Ah. . . another update. . . sure it's short as hell, and took me over two weeks to do it, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Anywho. . . read, and enjoy  
  
* * *  
  
Jet opened the door. Jet closed the door. Jet opened the door. Jet closed the door.  
  
He'd gone up, and searched the second floor, and the third. . . all without any luck. Well, he supposed, he did have some luck. At least the stairwells weren't under surveillance, and he had yet to run into any security. . . but truth be told, the complete absence of life, aside from the various plant specimens he found he found in the labs on the upper floors, was a little disconcerting. Wasn't Vanhausen supposed to be building and army here? Where the hell was it?  
  
And then he'd found it.  
  
As he'd ascended the stairs from the third floor, he could hear a faint humming which grew louder as he made his way up. He found himself tensing involuntarily as he reached the door to the fourth floor, and was bitterly amused by the fact that the hand he extended the turn the handle was trembling. Perfect.  
  
He turned the nob, and pushed the door open. The humming got instantly louder, but the source was still not visible.  
  
Jet stepped through, cautiously, and stole a glance in down the hallway that stretched in either direction and seemed to curve away from him.  
  
Jet now stole a glance at the map, punching a few buttons until it showed him the proper floor. As he'd thought, the hallway stretched around in a big circle, and there was only one door to the room contained on the other side. Jet stepped forward, and pressed an ear onto the wall.  
  
Yes, the hum was coming from in there.  
  
He sighed, chided himself for his trepidation, and began moving toward the entrance to the room.  
  
And now here he was. Opening the door, and closing it again. Over and over. In complete shock, and only half able to believe what he was seeing.  
  
***  
  
Faye was beginning to curse her instincts. After much trial and error, she'd managed to find herself down to the first basement, and that's where her luck had run out.  
  
She was now totally lost, unable to find her way either forward or backward, and starting to get pretty stressed. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before she started making mistakes in her frustration. And then she'd be caught.  
  
Faye stopped where she was on this thought and closed her eyes. She willed her anger and panic away, and was shocked to find it actually working. She felt the tension begin to leave her shoulders, and was at once much more centered and composed. She was ready to move forward, ready to go on.  
  
She felt again for that pull, that intangible thread that had lead her on initially. And then she felt it.  
  
Not the tug of her instincts. The barrel of a gun, pressed behind her ear.  
  
"Oh, fuck," she muttered.  
  
The amused chuckle behind her could have belonged to no one but Eve.  
  
"We meet again. . . it seems like you're always getting in my way."  
  
Before she could send Eve a snappy reply, Faye felt the gun lifted away, and returned a moment later with force. The next thing she felt was herself floating, and then slipping into darkness.  
  
***  
  
Jet stood just inside the circular room, having just convinced himself that no, his eyes were not deceiving him, and, yes, he was going to have to take care of this ASAP.  
  
Jet had just discovered why they had yet to run into the army VanHausen was growing. Because each and every one of the troops had been placed in stasis, and the, what must be thousands of stasis pods that lined the walls of the room ,and were suspended from racks that ran to the ceiling, were what had been causing that eerie humming as he'd traversed the stairs.  
  
"Too bad Faye was so God damned stingy with that C4," he muttered, as he sat himself down at the computer terminal in the corner, and proceeded to see if he could find any way to disable these pods.  
  
***  
  
Corbin eyed the complex in front of him with a barely suppressed shiver. On the surface, it was nothing like Lansing-Medcalf, but underneath. . . somehow, it still felt like the lab.  
  
It probably didn't do wonders for his state of mind that he was appraising this scene with the woman he'd spent a month running from. Eve. And he wondered, not for the first time, what exactly had driven him to seek out his shadow, and follow her here. He also wondered if maybe that drugging he'd gotten in the jazz bar had caused some permanent damage. . . or maybe it was just the natural psychological disturbance that occurred when one shared living quarters with a Ms. Faye Valentine.  
  
Corbin winced at the thought of her, and what she'd say about his irresponsibility if she were here. She'd probably call him a lunkhead. Lunkhead? Where the hell had that come from? He didn't think Faye'd ever called him that before.  
  
Oh, right. Spike.  
  
Corbin shook his head, scattering all thoughts of Faye to the winds, and focused instead on Eve. She was talking to him, telling him about the garden, and how each of the plants had been specially grown in the labs located inside the building, and implying a lot about what else was being grown there. Corbin was surprised at how much of the information she gave him he processed, seeing as how he'd only been half-listening.  
  
"Now, follow me," Eve said, and she began walking up the path.  
  
Corbin followed a little reluctantly. Jesus, but he was a stupid jerk. He wondered again what the hell he was doing there.  
  
And how the hell were they supposed to get in, he thought, there was no door that he could see, and he found himself more apprehensive with each step he took. Of course, no sooner did the thought enter his head, than a blank panel of wall slid open to reveal the hidden doorway.  
  
Eve stepped aside, motioning him in, and then followed. He didn't see the wolfish grin on her face.  
  
Corbin blinked several times, as his eyes adjusted to the low light, before he shot Eve a glance. She simply shrugged her pale shoulders,  
  
"You get used to it," she dropped casually, then her manner changed. From relaxed to alert, from nonchalant to focused, "now come, and be quick, Father has been waiting for you."  
  
And with that she began the long, winding descent to the belly of the beast. To Father.  
  
It was difficult. Mind bogglingly difficult. But Corbin managed to remember every twist, every turn, ever long dark hallway they passed through as she lead him forward. And there where a lot of all three. Obviously she was trying to get him lost, he mused, as they took four right turns, and ended up in the same hallway they'd just left.  
  
And that nagging suspicion was back. That annoying tickle at the back of his mind that he was being sought out. He'd become accustomed to it, with Eve breathing over his shoulder, but this was different. With Eve after him, it had been with him always, an unacknowledgeable fear, a heightened paranoia. Now his fear wasn't for himself, it was for the shadow that was following him, the non-existent shadow. He felt a genuine terror for the fate of the one who pursued him. She was in terrible danger.  
  
She?  
  
He pulled to a stop. Faye? No. she couldn't possibly, and even if she had, how would he know?  
  
He shook himself as Eve shot him a quizzical look, before stepping over and roughly shoving him in front of her, and into the lead where she could keep an eye on him. He didn't see her glance thoughtfully over her shoulder, her fine brows knitting together, so he couldn't be shocked by the murderous intent in her eyes.  
  
* * * alright, finally back to Corbin. I suspect that the next chapter will be mostly from his point of view. sorry it's short, but. well, I'm running out of excuses. 


	21. bless me father, for I have sinned

Corbin led the way through the labyrinth, navigating underground passages that he'd never before set eyes on like it was second nature. He knew where to go without any prompting from the figure behind him, and that was more than a little disturbing. 

He recognized this feeling, this unconscious knowing without knowing. It was like this when he was first in the cockpit of the swordfish II. It was like this when he fought, hands and feet moving of their own accord, remembering moves that he'd never taught them. It was like this when he bickered with Faye, as though it were just the natural order of things. It was like all of these things, and subtly different. Those were all reactions based on residual memories of Spike, they had a personal feel, an emotion behind them. When he committed these acts, he felt the intrusion of a foreign mind, a mind that intruded so often now that it hardly seemed foreign at all. Another extension of himself. . . with it's very own bad attitude. 

No, this was more like. . . instinct. Instinct in the most basic sense of the word. Like the way a freshly hatched Monarch butterfly takes its thousand mile journey for the first time, and never once gets lost. Such simple creatures, Monarch butterflies, beautiful, and simple. Not enough nerve cells in their entire bodies to fit on the head of a pen, yet they never have to be told where to go for the family reunion. 

That was him. Onward to his family reunion, navigating by information placed in his subconscious by his 'father.'

He was contemplating this, and didn't notice at first when they came to a stop. 

"What are you waiting for," Eve had come up beside him, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see her looking at him expectantly, and motioning forward.

He realized that they had come to a large door, and he wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but the hall through which they had been passing had opened up to accommodate it. Ceilings at least twenty-five feet high, and arching down into the walls. 

"Go on, Subject 26, give it a knock. It's not every day you meet your maker. And its even rarer that you'd live to tell about it."

Despite the whole mess, his only coherent thought was 'how can a genetically modified superior being have such a corny sense of humor?' A part of him realized that he must be in shock.

"Go on," she repeated, impatiently. And so he reached up his hand, and brought his knuckles into sharp contact with the metal. Once. Twice. As his hand descended for the third time, the whole room gave a shudder, and the door slid up into that magnificent arching ceiling. 

The door opened onto a narrow catwalk, and far out, he could see an island of stone rising up out of the pit. It vaguely reminded him of his first dream of Eve, and he shuddered. No, don't think of that. Back to what was immediate. What was pressing. The catwalk. Corbin had to wonder why anyone would make such a huge door to open to such a small space. . . but only for a moment, because a second later, Eve had shoved him forward roughly. 

"Go, and meet Daddy, I have some business to take care of."

He didn't relax as he heard the door slide shut again, and he knew Eve had left him. If anything, it just made him more nervous. Eve was his enemy, to be sure, but at least she was an enemy he knew, one he'd seen. What lay before him, that was a different story. 

He started forward. . . not like he had much choice, after all. Easy measured steps on what basically boiled down to a two-foot wide slab of steel extending fifty feet over a bottomless drop. Nothing to be worried about. 

Step by step, he approached the platform and the closer he got, the harder it was to breath. With a mild amount of shock he realized he was going into a panic. Oh, come on, he'd just been led into the bowels of hell by his own personal demon to meet Satan himself. . . no need to panic.

He paused a moment, and doubled over. No! He was not going to let this overcome him. He was going to confront Dr VanHausen, and he was going to walk away from this with his freedom. Or not at all, he added bitterly. Oddly enough, it was this though that spurred him on. 

All he'd ever wanted was freedom.

Was it too much to ask?

He reached the platform after what seemed like an eternity. It was empty, barren. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do, but then that same tugging that had enabled him to find this place took over again, and he approached a slightly discolored semicircle of stone. He stepped forward, and knelt on it, brushing dust from a hand shaped indentation. 

The front door, he thought, and placed his palm in the center of the indentation. The whole cavern seemed to shudder, and the platform began to descend.

*

*

*

Jet bit his lip in concentration. 

He'd have to find Faye. . . fifteen minutes? They'd have to retrieve Corbin. . . Twenty? Then they'd have to fight their way out. . . twenty eight? That was sixty three minutes. . . 

"Too long," he muttered. "Ah, hell," his fingers flew on the terminal keys, and he jumped up, hitting the enter key.

"Twenty minutes to systems failure," came a feminine voice. 

"I suppose that's just going to have to do. . . let's hope Corbin's got half of Spike's luck as well."

*

*

*

Faye was really getting tired of this whole 'knocked unconscious' thing. She'd been out cold no less than three times since her path had crossed Corbin's, and she was beginning to think that fellow was bad luck.

"oh. . ." she sat up with a groan, to find herself staring down the barrel of her own gun. Sweet fucking Christ, but those Automags were impressive. She'd had no idea.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, for the time being." 

Faye's eyes shot from the gun to the woman behind it, and she bristled. Eve.

"You bitch, once I kill you, I'm going to have to scrub that handle to get your filth off of it."

"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" It riled Faye that Eve sounded so God damned amused. And it crossed her mind that the flame-haired woman was only toying with her. Faye hated the feeling of being toyed with. It was how Spike made her feel, though honestly, he'd never meant to. 

Her heart constricted painfully. Spike. The Jericho. Where was it?

She looked around frantically, and Eve held up her other hand, "looking for this?" she asked, waving the gun tauntingly in front of the other woman.

Normally, Faye's not a stupid woman. Normally, Faye knows better than to pick fights she can't win, but normally Faye wasn't seeing red. She launched herself at Eve, and got a bullet in the gut for her trouble. Doubled over at Eve's feet, clutching the slow bleeding wound in her stomach, she rasped out, through the pain, anger, and anguish, "Give it back!"

Eve's reply was a cruel laugh. "I suppose I should finish you off. . ." she seemed to ponder this. "No, wait, I have a better idea."

She shoved the Jericho into her belt, and pulled Faye up sharply with her freed hand, and dragged her down the hall. 

Faye watched the blood ooze from her wound, and down her leg, to the heel of her shoe, where it left a thin line of crimson on the stone. For some reason, she was reminded of Hansel and Gretel. A trail of bread crumbs. Too bad she wasn't going to live to follow it home.

*

*

*

"Come in, my child, I have been waiting for you for quite some time."

And Corbin followed the voice to its source.

The platform had descended all the way to the floor of the great pit. Corbin couldn't be sure, exactly, but, he had to say it was a good. . . thousand feet, maybe? Or maybe it had just seemed like it. He'd felt like he was descending forever. Now he was stepping up onto a platform, where a what looked like a throne was placed. 

The voice was coming from somewhere beyond that.

"Sit," the voice said, as he drew even with the throne, and Crobin did as he was bid. . .from somewhere off in the shadows, he heard a low chuckle reach his ears. 

"Look my son, this is your castle. This is your throne. Now that you are by my side, I can awaken the rest of my children, your brothers and sisters, and together, we can rule the solar system."

"You're insane, no one can rule the solar system. . . not even the syndicates have that kind of power, and certainly not the government.'

"We can rule it, once we kill all the inferiors. . ."

Corbin's throat went dry, "You're talking wholesale genocide!"

"Yes, I am." And a shuffling of feet, he was coming closer, and finally stepping into the light, and Corbin laid eyes on the man responsible for his existence for the first time. 

He was shocked. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but not this. Dr. VanHausen was a completely ordinary looking man. Thirty-eight, maybe a little older, balding, with a slight paunch. Corbin had half expected him to step forward covered in black scales, leathery pinions rising from his shoulder blades, and horns jutting from his head.

He was normal, perhaps, if one disregarded the crazy look in his eye.

"And we're starting with this one."

Oh no, oh God. He knew it was even before she was tossed into the light, curling up in pain that Corbin felt he almost shared. Her plum head pitched forward so far her forehead almost touched the ground. Her hands, soaked in blood, and clutched around her shivering body.

Eve stepped forward behind her, and raised a gun. A familiar looking gun. . . where had he seen that gun before?

"I wanted you to see this," she hissed seductively at him, and Father let out a barking laugh.

*

*

*

Ed was going crazy. . . well, crazier, anyway. This was killing her. Normally she could at least get some idea of a missions progress, but now. . . She hadn't heard so much as a peep from any of her wayward team members, and she was getting anxious. It was sheer willpower that kept her from charging in there after them. 

What was going on?

*

*

*

I had no idea it had been a month since I updated this. . . sorry guys. . . uh, guys. . . put down the clubs. . . and the tar. . . please?

Anyway, we are really close to the end here, and I know I'm such a jerk for writing such short chapters. 


	22. through a red haze

Faye grinned insanely into the dirt on the floor of the cavern. She was going to die. She was going to die, here, in the dust, by Spike's very own gun. She laughed. She couldn't help it. But the ripple in her muscles caused her to stop again almost instantly. The pain. The god damned pain.

Her hands became blurry to her sight, and she coughed blood onto them as her vision began to swim.

She could hear a voice, somewhere in the room. Some one was protesting this. Someone cared if she lived or died. The thought made her profoundly happy, as she rested her forehead on the floor, and closed her eye.

"Stop this, she's got nothing to do with this. Please, let her go." The voice was saying. And Faye wanted to remember who it belonged to. Struggled to match it to a face.

"You made her a part of this. . . she's made herself a part of this," came a reply, and Faye felt her stomach clench painfully in hatred. 

"I mean it, Eve, if you kill her, I'll make you regret it." Dark, cold, tones. Why was he speaking so? Why was Corbin so angry?

Corbin?

Corbin! That was it. That was what she needed.

In a moment of clarity, Faye looked up to see Eve looking away from her. With the last ounce of strength Faye had left, she kicked upward, her foot colliding with the Jericho, and sending it end over end, arching to the ceiling, and falling down at Corbin's feet. 

There was a tense moment as the world stood still, then just as Faye was losing consciousness again, she saw Corbin dive for the Jericho, and Eve dive for Corbin. 

It was too bad she wouldn't get to see how this whole thing turned out.

*

*

*

He hit the floor, sliding under Eve's dive, and grabbing the gun as he passed. He saw Faye collapse, but he didn't have time to check on her just then. 

He rolled to his feet, and pointed the gun at Eve who was readying to spring on him again.

He fired once, then once again. The first bullet entered her shoulder, tearing an enraged scream from her throat, the second caught her in the leg, but neither kept her from her leap, as she threw herself into him, and once again, the gun was knocked into the air. 

Now they circled each other, both unarmed, each glaring death into the others eyes. 

Corbin had a moment to wonder what had happened to father, before Eve was attacking again. He dodged a kick aimed for his head, twisting into an impossible backbend, then kicking his legs up to catch her in the chin. While she shook the fuzz from her head, he made another lunge at the gun, but she recovered too quickly, and sent him forward into the dirt with a well timed kick in the back. 

"Shit."

She'd caused him to overshoot the gun, and when he rolled over onto his back to face her, he found himself looking down its barrel. 

He saw her finger twitch, but a sharp cry of "don't!" stopped her a moment before she pulled the trigger. 

"But Father…"

"No, we need him, I don't have the time or the resources to start over."

The shot came from a corner of the room that was still shrouded in dark, the bullet tearing through Eve's other shoulder, and she dropped her gun with an inhuman screech, whipping her head around to stare into the darkness. And Corbin watched as Jet stepped into the light. Great, the whole gang was here. Comforting to know he wouldn't be dying alone. 

From the corner of his eye, Corbin saw Dr. VanHausen reach into his robes, and opened his mouth to warn Jet, but the burly man was already on it.

A single bullet to the head sent the doctor off to that big genetics lab in the sky, and the pistol he'd been reaching for into the dirt.

"Father!" It was only a breath. Not even loud enough to truly be a whisper, but it echoed through the cavern with more resonance than the gunshot which had proceeded it. It was the cry of someone who'd just lost everything.

"No!" And an instant later, Eve had thrown herself forward, charging Jet in a dead run. But before she'd taken more than three steps, she stumbled, and Corbin saw the gore shoot from the exit wound in her forehead. He was shocked to find himself holding the gun.

"Christ." 

It had seemed like the only appropriate thing to say.

"Let's get going, kid, we've got to get out of here. Pronto."

Corbin shook his head, and stood up. It was over. It was FUCKING OVER.

"Faye. . . Hey, Faye?" He could hear Jet over his shoulder, where he'd gone to check on their fallen friend, and Corbin felt whatever color was left in his face drain away.

Faye. Oh god. He'd forgotten, for just a moment, that she was bleeding to death, and not waiting back on the ship for the victory celebration. 

Oh god. Faye was going to die, and it was all his fault. Oh god. Why had she followed him? oh god. Oh god. Oh god. 

He didn't want to turn around.

"… Corbin," Corbin gradually became aware that Jet was calling for him. "Hey, come on, get the fuck over here and help me."

Reluctantly, he obeyed. And almost turned right back around at what he saw. 

Faye was white as a sheet, and shivering. 

"She's in shock," he whispered, then got to his feet and approached them. He leaned over, and traced a hand across her face. "She's lost a lot of blood."

"I fucking know that," Jet replied irritably, "how the fuck did you think I found this Goddamned place? I followed her trail of blood, that's how." His voice rose steadily, until he was yelled the last words, and they reverberated off the shadowed walls. He dropped his head, "now that you've given you expert opinion Dr. Fucking Corbin, help me carry her out of here. I can't hold her and look at the map at the same time. 

"and we do have to leave. Right now."

Without another word, Corbin slipped his shirt off over his head, and tied it around Faye's mid-section. He wasn't sure if it was helping, but it wasn't like it could hurt much at this point. 

With the bleeding at least somewhat contained, he lifted her into his arms, and followed Jet out, taking care not to jostle her too much at their near-running pace. 

It felt like it was taking forever, and Jet was mumbling something about a countdown that couldn't be halted, and how he knew he should have given it an extra fifteen minutes. Corbin followed wordlessly for a few minutes, until they reached an intersection, and Jet started down the left path.

"Jet. This ways faster." Corbin informed him, with a head jerk to the right.

"Jet gave him a suspicious look, but shrugged, and motioned for Corbin to lead the way.

He wasn't sure how he did it exactly, but in less than five minutes they were at the door. 

"Almost there," Jet said, looking relieved, and he stepped forward. The door didn't open. He kicked it. It wouldn't budge. He shot it. Nothing.

As Corbin stepped forward, the doors slid open.

"Come on, and stay close. The security system is back up, but it's keyed into my DNA. If you're with me, it won't activate."

"Is this a fact or a theory?" 

"Let's hope it's a fact."

But they made it to the edge of the enclosure without incident, and when Jet moved as if to take Faye from Corbin, he just held her more tightly to his chest and shook his head.

"Jet, I know you've been with her longer, and you two are very close, but my ships three times as fast as yours, and if she's to have a chance of reaching medical attention, I should be the one to take her there. Just tell me what frequency Ed's on, and I'll contact her for coordinates of the nearest hospital once I'm in the air."

Jet nodded, it was sound logic, he couldn't deny that. "It's Ed, Corbin, it doesn't really matter, once she realizes you're out, she'll contact _you."_

Corbin nodded, and handed Faye over to Jet while he got into his cockpit, and buckled in. jet laid Faye in his lap, and jumped down just as the hatch closed.

Corbin saw Jet mouth "Godspeed" to him. like he needed the encouragement. 

A moment later he was in the air.

He was already skimming the canyons, heading toward New Vegas, where Ed had informed him was the only hospital within 500 miles. He didn't see the explosion that stared in the tower, and worked its way down until the whole thing was rubble.

*

*

*

"I have to say, it's strange to be on this end of it." Corbin's voice was light and airy as he addressed what appeared like a mummified human on the couch.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Lunkhead."

He scowled at that, "If you start calling me that, I'll be forced to call you Shrew Woman." His voice was light, but his eyes betrayed a hurt that had little to do with the actual insult.

Faye coughed, luckily, the only part of her body that wasn't bandaged was her face. He would have hated to miss that blush.

"Um, Corbin. . . there was something I meant to give to you, when I caught up with you."

"The Jericho."

"Yes, the Jericho. . . but that was all wrong. I mean it was a mistake," Corbin turned away. He didn't need to hear her say out loud how he was nothing compared to Spike. How he'd never measure up. 

"Corbin. . . hey, look at me." His eyes slid back to hers. There was something about the tone in her voice. "I'd meant to give it to you, yes, but I see now, that that was all wrong. That gun. . . it represents something that you aren't."

That was it, he stood up, "Listen, I'm tired, I'm going to turn in. . ." he made as if to go, but was stopped by her voice.

"No, don't go," she said, and to Corbin, it sounded like her voice held a waiver. "hear me out.

"What I meant was just that. . . you aren't him. I can't make you be him, and I can't keep comparing you two. So instead, I wanted to give you something else." She nodded to a box on the coffee table that he previously hadn't noticed.

He aproached it with caution, and only picked it up after a prompting of "it doesn't bite."

He slid the lid off, and pulled out a Glock 30. "This. . . didn't this…"

"Used to be mine? Yes. I think you could use a good gun, you know, something smaller than the ones you have, it's better for concealment purposes, and they work well in tandem. This one has served me well."

"Thank you." A whisper. 

Thank you, not just for the gift, but for finally giving me a place. _Me_. Just me.

*

*

*

Alright, thanks for bearing with me guys… this isn't over. Well _this_ is over, but I've always intended for this to be a three part job (hence all the loose ends.) I will work on the final installment, but at the moment, I need a short break from this series. Between this and To Heal All Wounds, I've been writing this series for nearly two and a half years. 

I need a breather.

Like I said, though, I do intend to continue. . . eventually. . . in a few months… so anyone who wants an email when the new story's ready to roll should let me know. Otherwise, I'll see you guys when I see you. 


End file.
